In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse
by YesIEatQuiche
Summary: In which the dashing, and today blond, Howl Jenkins is excited to accost pretty ladies on May Day and meets someone wholly unexpected: a witch…or two. Beware of spells, name changes, and narcissistic attitudes. Follows basic book progression, with several movie references.
1. In Which Much is Explained

**This idea came about because I wanted to see what it would be like inside Howl's head.**

**Disclaimer: Diana Wynne Jones is not me; I am not she. [I'm not a poet either -.-]**

In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse

Chapter 1

"Calcifer! Move the castle 10 miles to the north!" Howl yelled before re- submerging himself in magical bath products.

"Wahh? So close to town? It's barely midday Howl, someone might see us!"

"Exactly." Howl had never mastered the art of subtlety. If he wanted to be seen, by Jove he would be seen! And what a show it would be. If he played his cards right, he knew Calcifer would be amenable to shooting off fireworks. And the girls love fireworks, he thought. Perfect. Everything would work out just as he planned it. He would join in the festivities of Market Chipping, accost some girl, and woo her over with Calcifer's fireworks. Better still, the girl might very well be frightened by the loud noises and the brilliant magic, making her look to him for protection. Marvelous!

But wait, Howl frowned, finding a flaw in his plans. Did he really desire to accost _some_ girl? Shouldn't she be…Howl searched for the right world…_special_ in some way? Would it be more desirable to accost someone who was unique, or did Howl need someone who was comfortable but predictable? Was he looking for complacency or a challenge? Howl's head began to hurt, which was odd for wizards never get headaches. He attributed it to an overdose of philosophizing too early in the day. Anyway, Howl would know what exactly he was looking for the moment he saw her.

Now Howl was not at all thinking of the girl's feelings he was planning on to accost. That would come later, if at all. Nor was he thinking of his own. Feelings were the least that was on his mind. In fact, Howl had given up feelings a long time ago when he had given up his heart; not to any woman, ideal, or subject, but to a fire demon. He didn't plan on getting it back anytime soon, nor did he think it possible. But Howl didn't miss his heart or his feelings. For you cannot miss what you cannot feel. Howl had forgotten these human emotions. Instead he focused on his thoughts, his wants, his pleasures. Accosting girls was not for love, it was for adventure! It was a challenge, but a non-binding one. That was the essential thing: non-binding. It was why accosting was so perfect for him. He was what you may call a slither-outer, and it suited his interests to chase after a girl and leave once he had accomplished his mission: the return of affection. After that he left, moved on; he had not yet found any reason to stick around after his purpose had been completed.

But you mustn't judge too harshly – it is hard for one with a heart to understand the workings of a person's mind that is lacking one. Howl didn't feel guilty not only due to his flighty feelings but mostly because it never occurred to him that others possessed the feelings he lacked. They may have hearts, yes, but he had forgotten the emotions that stem from the heart. He never experienced love or heartbreak so why should others? That is why he always left – he could not understand the complexities of the heart having given his own up at a very young age.

Yet Howl was happy, or so he thought. He did not have to confront problems (confrontations were the worst!), he only had to run away leaving a trail of magic in his wake. He had Calcifer, his fire demon, and Michael, his apprentice. He was not ugly either, in fact he was beautiful. He accosted girls as he pleased, _and _he was possibly the most powerful wizard alive. What else could he possibly want?

Howl was finally ready to go. He donned his enchanted blue shirt that had long trailing sleeves with scalloped edges and silver insets. It went perfectly with today's hair color: an elaborate blond. He would not be needing his guitar today – Calcifer had agreed to the fireworks plot (after all a yes is a yes no matter how reluctantly given). Howl left the castle feeling exceptionally giddy – and he wasn't even drunk yet. What a May Day this would be.

**A/N Thoughts? Critiques? Reviews are most welcome. ^^ This fanfic is not planned to be super long, but I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. You can probably guess what's coming haha. Oh well.**


	2. In Which Howl sees her

**Disclaimer: **Howl is still not mine T.T (Arabella is though – oh _joy_)

In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse

Chapter 2

Howl was getting bored. He was angry at himself for feeling so; May Day had always been such a splendid day. What had gone wrong?

Yes, he had no reason or right to be bored. He should be having a grand time. He _was_ having a grand time. Howl had arrived at Market Square at an opportune moment: just when the young people were starting to arrive. He was able to reserve his traditional standing spot outside his favorite pub. He leaned against the building nonchalantly, and waited. His keen eyes swept the Square – he was the handsomest man there, though perhaps one of the oldest. Howl allowed himself a slight smile at that. If all else failed, at least he was beautiful.

He noticed the crowds were picking up. Young men were beginning the ritual of addressing the groups of girls. Many were already half drunk. Howl decided he would wait before buying a drink. In fact – Howl was struck with a brilliant idea – he would wait until he found a suitable girl and buy a drink for the two of them. How quaint! Howl was pleased with himself.

"Arabella, slow _down_. Remember what mother said! We must stick together." The girl addressing her sister stopped in front of Howl, hands on hips.

"Why must you ruin the fun?" The beautiful Arabella frowned, looking petulant. Howl admired her appreciatively. She was clad in a gorgeous pink gown, which was fitted through the torso and then flowed out. To complement the dress she had a rose in her hair.

"_Because_," the sister whispered, "what if that blasted Wizard Howl were to come and try to steal your heart?"

Howl chuckled, and decided it would be amusing to enter the conversation. Plus, he noted, Arabella had to be the most beautiful lady in the Square. "Excuse me Miss…Arabella, was it? What a charming name."

The two girls looked startled – they were so engrossed in their little disagreement that they had failed to notice the handsome older man reclining against the pub's window.

"Why yes sir, I am Arabella, and this is my _younger_ sister, Cecilia." Howl was generally a good character judge. He noted how her lovely voice accentuated her introduction of her sister. If he was right – and he, Howell Jenkins, almost always was – then Arabella meant to imply that she was older, more sophisticated, and more suitable for _him_. So be it; it would not be the first time it had happened.

"Well met my charming Arabella and Cecilia! How are you enjoying the festivities?"

Cecilia tried to answer, but Arabella cut in. How…predictable. "Cee, don't forget to mention the impromptu dance we participated in! It was marvelous: the music, the musicians, the partners. If only you had been there to see it! What did you say your name was again?"

"May I offer you ladies a drink?" It was out of mere habit that Howl changed the subject. It wouldn't have been difficult for him to make up a name. But giving out names seemed like a definite, tangible step that Howl wished to avoid. He had not decided yet if he wished Arabella to love him; he needed to make sure he left appropriate methods of escape.

"You are too kind sir!" Howl kept a passive face as Arabella giggled and batted her eyelashes in his general direction. "But…" Here it comes, Howl thought. "Cee really isn't old enough to drink. So I suppose I will have you all to myself." Howl mentally cringed. Arabella was trying to be alluring – and that was his job. His mood was growing steadily worse – and he couldn't even figure out why Arabella bothered him so much. She was stunning, and her looks were suited to his. Why was he so hesitant?

Howl was broken out of his reverie when Arabella, growing impatient, latched herself onto his arm and drew him into the pub. This action foreshadowed their entire time together: Howl was lost in his thoughts, and Arabella grasped for excuses to touch him again.

"Sirrr," she slurred, "why won't you look at me? Do you think I'm beautiful; I think you are. I think, I think I love you."

Damnation! Too many questions! And she loved him, _already_? He hadn't even begun to woo her over. In fact, he hadn't been paying Arabella the attention a pretty woman like her deserved. This was awful. He hadn't tried, it wasn't fun, and everything was all so…so…_predictable_.

"Ah ha!" Howl exclaimed. Arabella just stared at him as if in a trance. He stood up, escorted her back to Cecilia, and resumed his position in front of the pub. Howl felt excited for the first time since that morning. He now knew what he wanted. He wanted excitement. He wanted surprise. He wanted a woman who was original and like no one he had ever met before.

* * *

Time passed. Howl enjoyed himself though he still hadn't found _the one_. He met with plenty of beautiful women, fairer than the stunning Arabella, and had made them all fall in love with him. Howl had lost count after 26. That had to be some sort of record. Calcifer would have been impressed.

The drinks had convinced Howl that he was having the best time of his life. He danced, flaunted, and proved that he was the most dashing specimen ever to haunt Ingary.

At one point he thought he caught a glimpse of Michael heading over to the sweet shop, Cesari's. Howl wondered what business he had there. From what he had heard from the men in the bar, there was a beautiful lady who worked there as an apprentice. Maybe he would go over there later…

The festivities in the Square were just beginning. More boisterous young men were flooding the square and calling out loud remarks to any unfortunate female who crossed their path.

"Hey there!"

"Why aren't you cute!"

"Hey I'll buy you a drink!"

"I think I love you!"

It was the kind of controlled chaos that suited Howl perfectly. Music had started up again and multicolored couples were swirling through the square. It was in the midst of the crowd that he first saw her.

A girl clad in a gray dress was weaving through the dancing couples. She was practically running, her ginger hair bouncing up and down. Aside from the running, she stuck out from the colorful couples in her gray drab. From her expression Howl could tell she had a specific destination in mind. Her gray shawl draped over her shoulders while she clutched at the ends protectively, hurrying along. The girl possessed a slim figure, but the dress did not suit her. Still, there was something interesting about her. Howl thought it might be her stubborn look of concentration – he dearly wished to know what she was thinking.

The girl was making no headway through the square. Determined to speak with her, Howl created a path in the crowd that lead to him (with a flick of his hand). Predictably, she followed it – albeit in a half running fashion. Howl chuckled.

As the girl neared the bar, she caught sight of Howl's gaze. Embarrassed, she attempted to shrink into a shop doorway to hide.

Howl was utterly perplexed. He edged toward her with a gentle laugh. "It's alright you little gray mouse. I only want to buy you a drink. Don't look so scared."

Thankfully she did not try to escape again and turned to Howl with wide eyes. Howl looked closer into her eyes, startled. She reminded him of someone; a witch he had pursued long ago. Though the she hadn't found him yet, the Witch of the Waste had by no means had given up hope. But this girl looked nothing like that once dazzling witch, though she was attractive in her own right. Then Howl located the similarity. There was a faint tinge a magic surrounding her – the air crackled with it. She was a witch, but that did not explain why she seemed so scared.

"Oh, no thank you, if you please, sir," the frightened witch stammered. "I – I'm on my way to see my sister."

Howl was disappointed, but he tried not to show it. "Then by all means do so," he half-laughed. Who am I to keep a pretty lady from her sister?" Howl had a brilliant idea. "Would you like me to go with you, since you seem so scared?"

But Howl's kind offer seemed to have the opposite effect.

"No. No thank you, sir!" she gasped and fled away past him, brushing against his coat. Howl nearly jumped – the magic coursing through her nearly shocked him. Yes, definitely a witch. Howl watched carefully as she drifted back into the crowd – he did not want anyone else to frighten her more. But just as her figure disappeared behind a dancing couple, Howl realized something.

"Damnation!" he swore. He had forgotten to ask for the girl's name. Luckily Howl was not above following people. He fervently hoped she was not an Arabella.

**A/N:** Yay longer chapter this time! Hope the Arabella part wasn't too weird; I had to draw it out before Sophie came in XD

Question: what color are Sophie's eyes in the book? I sort of pictured them blue, but I don't know if they were ever mentioned otherwise.

Suggestions, comments, critiques?


	3. In Which Howl follows

In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse

**A/N: Thank you to all those who have added this fanfic to their story alerts/favorites list as well as to all those who have reviewed! You guys are awesome XD**

**(fyi I'm in a super good mood b/c I just finished my LAST formal physics lab; ergo I thought I'd submit this chapter ^^ I hope you like it…)**

**Disclaimer: Ce n'est pas mien. (french, oh là là) **

**Dedication: to purdycute, for some feedback on my ideas. Thank ya ^^**

Chapter 3

'Hey, at least I'm open-minded,' Howl begrudgingly thought to himself. He was, after all, doing something he had never in his life done before; he, Howl, was in a compost heap. Yes, there was rubbish all around. It smelled ghastly – like that time Michael had tried to cook on Calcifer and some old, scented spell books had burst into flames on the spot. Thank goodness Howl had had the foresight to cast a spell that would repel the waste from his precious suit.

Yet however open minded Howl tried to be, in reality he was just annoyed. How did it come to this? It was all because of that lovely witch-girl – in the measly second she glanced back over her shoulder, probably to gaze at the magnificent Square for the last time, he was overcome with an absurd desire to hide. For some reason, he couldn't let the witch-girl see him – yet.

Howl groaned in frustration. Why should a powerful, dashing wizard like himself have to hide? Ah, well there was one explanation he could think of. But that only applied to the Witch of the Waste. Certain that the witch-girl had never done him any harm, Howl dismissed the matter, thoroughly confused.

By now his chest had stopped pounding. Yes, that girl had really given him a fright. Howl wondered if Calcifer's heart would be pounding because of Howl's little escapade. He made a note to ask him later. But to ask him would run the risk of explaining why he was in a compost dump. Howl would rather face a crying heartbroken girl than admit to Calcifer his absurd weakness.

Figuring he had spent quite enough quality time with the rubbish for that day, Howl carefully stood up and stepped out of the bin. He simply stood there, taking in his surroundings that he had initially missed in his hurry to hide. He was standing in a narrow, winding ally that was immediately off one of the main roads. He could just hear the May Day music from the Square, along with the occasional high-pitched giggle of some girl. Howl longed to rejoin the festivities, or at the very least, get another drink. He hadn't even danced yet. But Howl knew he couldn't go back yet – he needed to find the witch-girl.

While Howl was standing there pondering, he began to rise off the ground. As his desire became clearer, his speed steadily increased – until finally he shot up, planning to perch on some roof top to scope out the witch-girl, but came to a hovering halt as he whizzed by a window. Howl cringed. His reflection was hideous. Well, his suit was gorgeous, but his hair was a royal mess. Just as the nauseous feeling became too much to bear, he noticed that the window led to a bedroom. And lo and behold, there was a vanity – complete with brush.

Ever so carefully, Howl pried the window open. It only squeaked a bit. He then floated to the vanity – not wanting to chance creaky floors – and sat down in the lacy chair. Seizing the brush, he vigorously combed his unruly hair. Through his efforts and a bit of magic, it was once again gorgeous.

As he put the brush back in place, Howl noticed a perfume bottle. Afraid he might smell of rubbish, Howl used a generous amount of it without bothering to check the label. He sprayed it all around him, rose into the air, and began to twirl. Faster and faster, until his long blonde hair stood on end and the room was crackling with magic. It was quite a sight.

After the eighteenth twirl he realized he was no longer alone. A young girl had entered the room and emitted a startled "Oh!"

Panicking, Howl leapt out the window and flew away, ignoring the astonished "Wizard Howl?"

On the roof Howl could still hear the girl's exclamations.

"Mama, mama! Wizard Howl was just here! He _flew_ out the window!" The young girl poked her head out of the open window, desperately searching.

And the reply: "Step away from that window young missy! You are lucky Howl didn't eat your heart out!"

Howl chuckled. Michael sure did an efficient job of blackening his name. He should teach him a new spell as a reward.

Howl began to pace about the roof. He couldn't see the witch-girl on the main road anywhere. She wasn't _that_ fast a walker. Stumped, Howl turned around and sat in frustration. He put his face in his hands and tried to think. If he concentrated hard enough he could locate all the magical beings in the town. It was a complicated spell though and would waste precious time. However he decided to go through with it and began to clear his mind.

"Ah!" Howl's eyes snapped open as he heard the startled shout. It was her, he _knew _it. Sprinting to the edge of the roof, he peered over, and thrust himself into the air. His landing was slightly more graceful as he touched down behind a bend in the ally. He hesitated, staying put. Howl was still wary of making an appearance just yet.

"Looks like a little mouse has lost its way." It sounded like one of the officers to Howl. He had never liked those men. That, and he was annoyed at his ingenious nickname being stolen. Little mouse, indeed.

"Oh! no…I'm fine." It was _her _voice. He then heard retreating footsteps. She meant to run away _again. _Didn't she realize the power she could wield?

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink." Howl was furious. She better say no, he thought. She better say no, say no –

More footsteps. Howl held his breath.

"No thank you, I'm busy," the witch-girl said rather stiffly. Howl breathed a sigh of relief.

"She sure is cute for a mouse," another man's voice said. Damnation! There were _two _of them. He stiffened again.

"Say, how old are you? You live around here?" it was the first man's voice again. Howl's anger slowly crept back. It was really none of the officer's business. Howl made a mental note to ask the witch-girl himself later.

"Pe-please let me pass!" Oh dear, she was frightened again. Though rightly so, Howl admitted.

"It's that mustache of yours – all the girls are scared of it," explained number one. Howl nodded in agreement. Mustaches were not beautiful. About time some men realized it.

"Nonsense – I think she's even cuter when she's scared." There was that word again: cute. Howl decided it was time to break this up.

"Hey there, I'm sorry," Howl said to the girl as he walked around the corner. He came up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder – for good measure, so she wouldn't run away. "Where've you been?"

She started, clearly recognizing the voice though not sparing even a glance up to confirm it. Howl was disappointed. He would have liked to see her sad, deep eyes again.

"Hey, who're you?" said the non-mustachioed man, clearly annoyed.

Howl saw no reason to answer the question. "I'm with her," Howl said slowly as if speaking to a small child. "And shouldn't you two be off? Why don't you take a little walk?" Howl waved his finger and the two men marched away at a fast pace.

"Hey!"

"What the…"

Howl turned to his friend. "Don't hold it against them, they're harmless. I'm Wizard Howl, by the way. You may call me Howell."

"I'm Soph…ah – Sophia." Howl was so delighted at having learned her name to question the truth of it. Sophia – it seemed to fit, for the most part.

Seeing she was too astonished to say anything else he added, "Where to Sophia? I'll be your escort this evening."

"No really, I'm only going to Cesari's."

"Ah, Cesari's. I've been meaning to go there myself. We shall go together." Howl's tone was final. Having no other choice, the two set off, arm and arm, with magic coursing between them.

**A/N: Hurray for eventual movie references! I do so wish I could fly like Howl. It's my number one super power of choice. **

**Yeah not much happens in this chapter, sorry. I want to try to make this story longer than I initially intended it to be, but I'm having trouble thinking of other scenarios. So, any suggestions as to things Howl and Sophie should do? I can't say I will use all of them, but they would help stimulate my own ideas as well ^^ Thanks. **

**Also, my exams are next week so the update will most likely not be asap ^^; sorry…**

**Ah, also, Sophie gives Howl the "wrong" name b/c he's wizard Howl after all and she is a tad suspicious of him. Plus when you think about it, there's no way Sophie could tell him her real name b/c then Howl will immediately realize Grandma Sophie is this Sophie and imo that should be a gradual realization. **

**Howell and Sophia hahaha so creative. **

**(Oh and please review. Critiques are the best :P)**


	4. In Which Howell and Sophia stroll

In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse

**I hope this does not disappoint. Enjoy!**

**(Forgive the beginning paragraph. It's lame, yes, but I couldn't bring myself to edit it out ^^; )**

**Disclaimer: It is very sadly that I repine for Howell Jenkins is not mine. **

Chapter 4

You must picture to yourself silence; utter silence. Well perhaps not complete silence but enough silence to quiet two people in the midst of a noisy, bustling square. These two silent people strode through this square, quite enraptured with each other, but with nothing at all to remark about.

Howl was having particular difficultly forming words. He and Sophia were strolling arm and arm – and the magic coursing off of her was immense. So immense and unfamiliar that Howl believed it was messing with his brainwaves. Howl cursed silently, utterly frustrated. He had experienced this sensation before, but not for some time. Yes, Howl was out of practice conversing with witches and their mysterious pull. Why it wasn't since the Witch of the Waste…

Howl shook his head vigorously, as if to rid a particularly nasty wasp. When he looked up, Sophie was gazing at his hair, completely absorbed. Pleased by the fact that wizards could enthrall others just as well as witches could, Howl cleared his throat, preparing to strike conversation.

" Ah…Sophia, what, erm…brings you to…to Cesari's?" Howl forced out. He had never been so tongue tied in his life. Where had the suave gentleman gone?

"Why, my sister works there," Sophia answered fluidly.

"And…and what is your sister's name?" Howl was not being much better than those annoying officers, but he could honestly think of nothing else to say. He had been so focused on learning the witch-girl's name that what they were to talk about had not occurred to him.

"Lottie."

"Ah. Do you have any other sisters?" Howl decided to get the common questions out of the way first.

"Yes, my sister Marella. But Frannie sent her away to seek her fortune as a witch's apprentice. I trust she will do well."

Howl thought it rather ironic that this Marella was sent away when Sophia was clearly the one with magical powers. "Who is this Frannie?"

"My late Father's second wife."

"Oh I am deeply sorry about your father." Howl knew what it was like to be alone. The two walked on in silence, each in his/her own reverie.

Howl broke it first.

"If Lottie is at Cesari's and Marella is an apprentice, what marvelous work do you do, Sophia?"

"Oh. Nothing too marvelous I'd say. I just make hats. It comes with being the eldest of three."

"You shouldn't say that you know," Howl told her, coming to a halt. He knew the superstition, yes, but that was just something families made up to account for disappointing first-borns. He should know. No one truly believed it, though he did not think Sophia was lying. Perhaps the reason she seemed so afraid all the time was because she had resigned herself to mediocrity.

But Sophia gave no intimation that she had heard Howl's comment.

"And what about you, Howell? Do you have a family?"

Howl had no inclination or motivation to answer that question. "Tell me more about the hats, Sophia."

"Well I don't sell the hats, of course, I just trim them. A little ribbon here, some flowers there…" Sophia became more animated. "But the thing most people don't realize is that the thing the hats need most is _confidence_. A word of encouragement does wonders. Why, just the other day…" Sophia paused abruptly, thinking she was speaking nonsense. She turned away from Howl quickly, but not before he glimpsed her rosy cheeks.

"I would buy any hat you made, Sophia," Howl whispered, temporarily forgetting that hats were not compatible with his bone structure. "I'm sure they are lovely."

Howl's thoughtful yet embarrassing statement would have robbed the two of any further conversation before they reached Cesari's if it were not for a curious gust of wind that suddenly whipped down the street. When it reached the two of them it ruffled at their clothes and hair. Howl drew Sophia closer to him, as a precaution (for she did look like she might blow away and if Howl did not hide behind something quick his hair would be utterly ruined for the day).

It was then that Howl became aware of it: the _smell_. Something positively reeked. It was not Sophia, she smelled wonderfully of wildflowers. Howl craned his neck in search of trash bins. None in sight. If that was the case the only logical thing Howl could conclude was the source of the smell was none other than…_himself_.

Tentatively, Howl sniffed his shirt. The scent was ghastly, like some peculiar aged garbage. The perfume he had hastily applied must have reacted with the garbage's smell, leaving behind this odor. He had to act swiftly, lest Sophia notice the stench.

"Howell, do you smell something?"

Too late.

He had to do something, _fast_. Howl's mind was in a panic. Magic would not work for this kind of emergency. That is to say it would work, but not without damaging his favorite suit. Unexpectedly, Howl remembered something.

"This way, Sophia, we're taking a slight detour."

He set off at a brisk pace, dragging Sophia along behind him.

"Do you remember what I told you earlier about my name?"

"That it's Howell?" Sophia seemed confused.

"No – before that."

"Oh! That you are Wizard Howl."

"Exactly. And as the only wizard of Market Chipping, I have specific duties outlined in my contract," Howl glanced over at Sophia to see if she was buying this. Her face was carefully attentive with no hint of doubt. He continued, "Of my numerous, oft neglected, duties is one similar to that of a sanitation engineer. But not quite. I, er, you see there are disgusting creatures that breed and live in the ample compost heaps around town. They are quite dangerous, I assure you, thus it is my job to take care of them." Seeing Sophia's slightly puzzled look he added, "by that of course I mean exterminate them. It is a rather sickening job, but someone has to do it. It might as well be me since my magic aids immensely. So anyway, earlier today I was finishing up my job when I came across a particularly nasty skrewt (what we called the blasted creatures). It shot towards yours truly and hurled me into the compost heap. There was no helping it. I made quick work of the skrewt, but some of its godforsaken stink must have rubbed off on my favorite suit. Not to mention the smell of week old garbage. Thus I fear I owe you an apology, Miss Sophia, my suit reeks abominably."

Quite startled by such a shocking speech, Sophia could not say much of anything, besides that she forgave him.

"Therefore our detour will take us by a lovely little dry cleaners positioned thankfully next to a perfume boutique."

"I will not have myself smelling of swine," Howl added, muttering so low as to escape Sophia's ears entirely.

They were nearly there since Howl's little speech had kept them occupied for most of the walk. The two shops were happily situated just off a main road, presumably close to the square for they could once again hear music. Howl longed to dance, but he had more important matters to attend to at the moment.

Howl decided it was best to go into Misty's Dry Cleaning first. As the two walked in a bell rang, alerting Misty – an older woman with orangish hair – that she had customers.

"Good day," Misty greeted them, "Mr. and Mrs?"

"Pendragon," Howl replied automatically. Luckily he did not think Sophia had heard.

In fact, Sophia was completely enraptured by her surroundings. The sign had been deceiving. Not only did Misty clean clothes, she made them. Hundreds of shades of fabric lined the walls. Sophia was reminded of the time she made her sister a beautiful red May Day dress. Not wishing to become lost in memories, Sophia turned back toward Howl.

Only to find that he was taking his shirt off. It made sense of course – how else was he to get his shirt cleaned? But for goodness sakes there were _ladies_ present.

"Excuse me, _Howell_, I'm still here." Sophia's angry tone failed to hide her rising blush.

Howl only treated her to a wicked smile.

"Misty says it will be a few minutes so I'm heading next door. Care to join me, Sophia?"

"You don't happen to be able to magic up a spare shirt?"

"No."

"Then I'm afraid I will be staying right here." Sophia picked up her favorite piece of blue fabric and sat down.

"Suit yourself." Howl marched majestically out the door, causing a few ladies on the street to faint into their partner's ever ready arms. Sophia breathed a sigh of relief after he had gone.

In the perfume boutique Howl was busy purchasing all the needed ingredients for his magical make-Howl-smell-beautiful-again-potion. He was glad his plan had worked perfectly – he had not wanted Sophia to come watch him brew a potion reminiscent of some crazy crackpot old witch. Still, her reaction was better than he had hoped for. Howl allowed himself a small smile.

The brewing did not take much time at all – Howl was well practiced, of course. It was not long until he waltzed serenely back into Misty's shop. Howl had the satisfaction of seeing Sophia avoid looking at him. What fun!

Howl picked up his newly-cleaned favorite suit, placed a special order, and thanked Misty so courteously that she fell half in love with Howl and let him have the suit cleaned for free.

Only after Howl had put his suit back on did Sophia dare look at him again. Then Howl strode over to her, slid his arm through hers, and exited the shop.

"I'm sorry that I delayed you seeing your sister," Howl said, looking penitent. "But I believe I have a way to get you to Cesari's faster."

"How is that?"

"Like this!" Howl wrapped his arm around Sophia's slim waist and shot up into the air. Sophia emitted a sound of surprise. Flying, after all, was always preferable to mere walking, Howl reflected – it was much more dazzling.

"Now straighten your legs and start walking," Howl instructed. She did. It was as if they were both walking on air. Below them was the square, and the couples dancing blended into the most magnificent spots of color.

"See, not so hard is it? You are a natural."

Howl spotted the balcony of Cesari's and directed Sophia over there, carefully landing on the ledge.

"I'll be back to pick you up in an hour," Howl said. "Enjoy your time with Lottie."

"Yes, thank you," Sophia said, a tad surprised at Howell's forwardness, yet pleased all the same.

"That's my girl," Howl said with a grin as he let go of Sophia's hand and soared down off the balcony.

Sophia ran to the edge to look for him, but Howl was already lost amongst the numerous colorful dancers in the square.

**Just a few quick things: Lottie=Lettie, Marella = Martha, and Frannie = Fanny. Sophie doesn't trust Howl with their real names. **

**I hope you enjoyed this installment as much as I enjoyed writing it. **

**Questions, comments, cantankerous statements? ^^**


	5. In Which There is Quite a Bit of Magic

In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! Do enjoy ^^**

**Disclaimer: I do not have the imagination necessary to create such delightful characters.**

Chapter 5

Howl was happy – _oh_ so happy that he could not fathom the ennui he had felt mere hours before. In fact, happy was not the correct term. No, only words on the caliber of euphoric and jubilant could be applied to Wizard Howell Jenkins now. The dancers in the Square seemed to concur with their shouts of delight and increase of tempo.

Why was Howl in such a state, you ask? Leaping off the balcony of Cesari's had given him an ideal angle – one that enabled him to observe Sophia unbeknownst to her. A most bewitching smile had lit up her face as she searched the crowd for Howl with a pensive look in her eye. Howl conceded, quite willingly, that she was almost as beautiful as himself – perhaps even more so.

Everything in the square seemed to reflect Howl's ecstatic mood. He fancied he had never been so happy, not even when he had first experimented with magical hair products and turned his hair a dashing bleach blond. Howl longed to join in the festive dancing, but resisted; the only lady who could be his dance partner was Sophia.

The common passerby could not be ignorant of Howl's state of mind. A sort of magical and impenetrable force field had enveloped him, detectable only due to the brilliant shine it emitted and the occasional insect it caught unawares. Gravity seemed to have no effect inside the field; the ends of Howl's elaborate blond hair began to slowly rise up, giving him a thoroughly peculiar, yet striking look.

Howl, the happy fool, was completely oblivious to these side effects – that is, until the chaotic crowd formed an orderly circle around him. Gasps and whispers and endearing giggles were prevalent. Howl enjoyed the attention. He glanced up at the balcony to see if Sophia was still there – but, alas! – she had since gone inside.

Upon turning around to face the crowd, Howl experienced quite a shock. The beautiful Arabella was walking towards him – though she did not seem half so beautiful now for some reason. Annoyed, Howl quickly thought of a dozen or so ways to escape her. He chose to execute number seven (his favorite number – all magical things must come in sevens) which consisted of stepping to the right rather quickly and then backing into the crowd.

But just as Howl lifted his right foot, he froze. That was no gentleman's daughter, that was a witch! And not just any witch – the Witch of the Waste had found him at last! In fact it was obvious that Arabella was really the Witch. The aura surrounding her was positively evil and crackling. Other little things gave away the disguise – the haughty expression with the eyebrows tilted just so, and those dark, dismal eyes. In the distance Howl spotted her loyal henchmen, ill-disguised as footmen.

In a real panic, Howl jumped over the heads of those surrounding him and landed in a crouched position three yards away. He snapped his fingers to disguise his hair and clothes – he now resembled one of the officers – and grabbed hold of a lady's free hand. He promptly steered her away.

"Excuse me, I could not help but notice how your beauty puts everyone else to shame. I'm taking you for a drink."

The lady was flattered into silence, allowing Howl to compel the musicians to resume their play. The Square resumed its chaos, and Howl and his partner waltzed toward the bar.

Howl was glancing frantically around the square, searching for the Witch, when he received an unpleasant tap on the shoulder. He jumped.

"That's my lady you're stealing, boy!" A rather large man grabbed the lady's hand and made to punch Howl.

Unfortunately – though through no fault of his own – the man missed, hit an equally large man, and began a brawl. It spread like wildfire through the square, each man determined to maintain his honor in front of his sweetheart. The confusion allowed Howl to escape down a side street, as fast as his little legs would carry him.

The side street was just as bustling. Howl hurriedly along, deftly dodging the occasional foot. He was in such a rush that he ran right through a puddle, spraying the ladies in the vicinity.

"Oooh," they squealed, afraid of getting their gowns wet. Then: "What a cute dog! He really is the cutest dog I've ever seen!"

Howl the dog huffed appreciatively. He was quite the charmer, even with a few extra legs.

Once Howl came across a deserted alleyway, he trotted down it. Then, with a glance over his shoulder, he transformed back into his normal self. Immediately Howl brought his right arm across his body and snapped it back, like an off-center salute. As his arm returned to its proper place, another Howl appeared.

"Now I want you to run back around the Square and head in the opposite direction," Howl whispered carefully to himself. "Make sure she sees you. And keep in touch," Howl added with a point to his temple.

The second Howl nodded in consent and bolted out of the alleyway.

Meanwhile the real Howl was walking leisurely down the other end of the alleyway and fumbling with his necklace. At the end of the long, gold chain was a bright green teardrop stone that matched his earrings perfectly. Normally he kept the precious chain tucked under his shirt, but he desperately needed its help now.

Slowly, Howl raised the stone up to the remaining sunlight. He folded his long fingers around it and closed his eyes. After a few moments of silence, Howl breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe for now – the Witch had been put off the trail. He owed Calcifer some bacon; it was the fire demon that had insisted he wear his tracking necklace today, rather than leave it hanging in his room of the moving castle.

Howl decided to disguise his clothes and hair, just to be safe, and then set off for Misty's Dry Cleaning. He had an order to pick up.

Soon Howl was back on one of the main streets. He strolled along, wishing Sophia was with him. He passed by a gaggle of girls waiting outside Misty's shop.

"Excuse me miss," one of them asked, "can you point us in the direction of the Square? We seem to be lost."

Howl obligingly raised a dainty finger in the opposite direction and was alone once again. He was about to walk into the shop when he paused to admire his reflection in the door window. Howl was clad in a bright green dress and had long wavy raven colored hair. He smiled. If it weren't for Sophia, he would have gladly danced with himself.

And with these happy thoughts in mind, Howl opened the door. The bell rang, and Misty was waiting behind the counter.

"Hello miss, how can I help you today?"

"Yes, I'm here to pick up an order," Howl said in a girly voice.

"Hmm…name?"

"Pendragon," Howl said confidently.

"That's odd, I don't remember you among that group," Misty mused.

"Oh that's because Mr. Pendragon is my lovely older brother," Howl lied spectacularly. "He's rather handsome don't you think? He enjoys sending me on errands."

"Oh, then here you go Miss."

Misty handed over the wrapped package. Howl took it, and gracefully exited the shop.

Howl then stuck up a path toward Cesari's. It was at last time to pick up Sophia. Howl could not wait to once again gaze at her expression. Not wanting to waste any time, he broke into a run – which was rather difficult to do in heels. Accordingly, Howl tripped, and was in too much of a shock at his loss of balance that he could not stop his fall.

"Botheration!" he contented himself with muttering.

Luckily, a handsome soldier was at hand and stepped forward to save the damsel in distress. The soldier grabbed Howl by his delicate waist and spun him around.

"Whoa there missy! If you aren't careful you will take another fall. A girl like you needs an escort."

"Sorry, _sir_, but I really must be off," Howl practically growled – the man still had not let go.

"Where to? I'll take you there!" the soldier said eagerly.

"Actually I'm already meeting someone," Howl replied icily. "S.._he_ is waiting and will be worried if I'm not there on time." He was growing very annoyed. This imbecile of an officer was going to make him late to pick up Sophia!

"The Square is only just over there. Your date will thank me for my gallantry." He said it in such a way that Howl could have no further say in the matter. Plus, Howl was still wary of the Witch – the other Howl had alerted him that she was still in the Square; maybe an escort would throw her off the trail. Thus the odd couple set off arm in arm.

Howl spent most of the time scrutinizing the young soldier. What nerve, he thought. Obviously, this soldier thought very highly of himself. He seemed to believe he possessed what women call "dashing looks". Well Howl, who was something of an expert in such matters, knew the man was not in the slightest bit dashing. He could not fathom why the passing ladies were eyeing the soldier. His face was slightly unsymmetrical, he was too tall, and his dull, lifeless brown hair did not at all go with his deep baby blue eyes. No, Howl thought, not dashing indeed.

At last they reached the Square.

"Walk me over towards Cesari's, if you please sir," Howl requested.

As the two ambled on, Howl spotted the Witch – as Arabella – in the distance. She was alone. Howl had had enough; it was time to take matters into his own hands. Plus, he was confident his disguise would hold its own to hers.

"Arabella! There you are. I've been looking all over!" Howl yelled.

The Witch turned around at Howl's call. "Oh," she said, keeping with the charade, "do I know you?"

"Arabella, how could you?" Howl cried. "We are practically sisters!" The Witch seemed convinced the lady-Howl was one of Arabella's friends. "And look, I've brought you a dancing partner!"

Practically shoving the Witch and the soldier together, Howl made his escape into Cesari's. He transformed back into his old self as the door closed shut. Eagerly, Howl scanned the place for Sophia. He desperately wanted to give her his present.

**A/N: I can't believe I thought I could write this fanfic in five or so chapters! I hope all the magic wasn't too hard to follow. Questions, comments, cantankerous statements? Please review ^^**


	6. In Which Howl Gives a Present

In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse

Chapter 6

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**A/N:** Bet you thought I forgot about this, eh? You thought wrong! I do apologize for the longish absence – I've been writing essays for college applications and lots of other stuff (other stuff, great excuse). But I figured since today is the first day of my Thanksgiving Break the least I could do is start chapter 6. Now I know it's a short one, but think of it this way: the shorter the chapter, the longer I can make the story heh heh. Actually I just figured this is better than nothing ^^; Please enjoy even though not much of anything happens ^^;

**Dedication:** To all of y'all. Happy early Thanksgiving!

**Disclaimer: **Diana Wynne Jones doesn't have to apply to college. [_YIEQ, that's not a proper disclaimer…_sheesh, I don't own Howl okay?]

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In Which Howl Gives a Present

Howl stood aloof in the corner of the busy bakery. Though not his first choice in location (no one could _see_ him!), there was little he could do to stop the wave of obnoxious customers who wrestled their way to the front counter. Plus, he was a tad distracted. Yes, Howl was more preoccupied with watching the astounding Sophia at work.

She was wearing the surprisingly flattering Cesari's apron, which was – thankfully, Howl thought – not gray. As Sophia ran back and forth behind the counter, delivering orders and taking them, she had about her a concentrated air of determination that made Howl smile. She obviously didn't have to be working for her sister, but she _wanted_ to, just so Lottie could relax for a bit. Howl felt a strange sensation, one that was almost akin to…but Howl brushed the incomprehensible feeling away.

Howl resumed his watching of Sophia. In fact, he was almost content to just stand there in the corner and gaze at her for the remainder of May Day. Almost.

Reminding himself that he had a present for Sophia and rapidly returning to his original state of frenzied excitement, Howl puffed out his chest and made his way toward the counter. After much pushing and shoving to very little avail, Howl promptly remembered he was a wizard, flicked his wrist, and sent the rest of the customers out of the bakery.

"Sophia!" Howl yelled, quite unnecessarily given the shop's newly acquired silence, to a startled Sophia.

"Howell," Sophia gasped and looked up with a rather ludicrous expression on her face.

"I thought they would never leave," Howl said, walking towards the counter. Unable to contain his excitement any longer he thrust the package forward (that he had retrieved out of his pocket which should not have had enough room to store an object of such size). "For you," Howl said with a smile.

Sophia looked nervously back and forth between Howl and the present, all the while playing with a rag in her hands.

"Come on Sophia, there's nothing to be afraid of," Howl sighed. "It's just a little something I happened to pick up on my way here."

Sophia's eye's narrowed. "I'm not scared," Sophia said defensively. To prove her point she snatched the gift away from Howl rather quickly.

Howl hastily stifled a laugh as Sophia ripped through the wrappings. When she held up the gorgeous blue dress, her anger gave way to astonishment.

"But isn't this –"

"From the same fabric you were admiring at Misty's? People shouldn't wear gray on May Day, it's an insult to the holiday. Besides, I figured you'd like it," Howl babbled.

"Thank you Howell for the dress and your fashion advice, but I really can't accept this. I mean…I've only known you for a few hours; you can't just frolic through Ingary handing out May Day dresses to whoever you chance to meet – "

Sophia continued her rant, but Howl had stopped listening. None of it mattered anyway – he'd have his way in the end. Howl unwittingly let out a lazy yawn.

"Howell, are you even – "

Before Sophia could voice her reproof, Howl snapped his fingers and her old gray dress dissolved, revealing the blue one in its place. Sophia glanced down, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. She noticed her ginger locks brushing the side of her face in the process; somehow her hair had come down. Sophia was suspicious it was related to her sudden wardrobe change.

"That's better," Howl mumbled. He looked over her appreciatively. "I had a feeling that color would go wonderfully with your hair, and – what's the matter?" He had noticed Sophia's growing blush.

"Y-you…you can't just go about dissolving people's dresses!" Sophia exclaimed placing her hands on her hips in an attempt at sternness.

"I don't see what the problem is – it's not like I saw anything." Howl smirked, inwardly thanking his lucky stars that Calcifer had made him a proper liar.

Sophia's already red face turned and even darker shade of red. "B-b-but…" she spluttered.

"Look," Howl said with a sigh, "can't you just thank me?"

Sophia gazed down at the dress again. Trying to bide herself some more time before she had to answer Howl's question, she twirled – the color dazzled her; it really was her favorite.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, albeit quietly.

"You're welcome," Howl said with a wide grin. "Let's go."

"Where to?" Sophia demanded, her anger and embarrassment giving way to a welcome amusement.

"Now that you are properly attired, I think it is high time for a dance." Grabbing hold of Sophia's dainty hand, he rushed out the door of Cesari's.

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**A/N:** Sorry again for the shortness, there is more to come, but this felt like a good place to stop. In fact, I might be persuaded to update sooner depending on if I get some reviews *unashamed trickery*.

Seriously though: questions, comments, cantankerous statements?

I love Howl, don't you ;P


	7. In Which Sparks Fly

In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse

Chapter 7

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**A/N: **Wow guys – seven chapters: this is a first for me! ^o^ Thanks for all the kind reviews from last time, especially Lurker and being Unknown, summerbirdy, and That girl (since I can't PM you as you don't have an account *sad face*) I was so surprised that the majority of you thought Howl was a player/rascal – he, well…it just sort of happened that way. ^^; What can I say…he's Wizard Howell Jenkins (I think this speaks for itself).

I'll shut up now. I really will. Hopefully you enjoy this installment .

**Disclaimer: **Sadly I own nothing. T.T

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In Which Sparks Fly

Howl had been tugging eagerly on Sophia's arm, keeping her in tow, ever since the two of them had left Cesari's. It came as a complete surprise, therefore, when Sophia suddenly stood rooted to the spot, refusing to be pulled any longer. Howl had been nearly running (he really wanted to dance, you see) and his momentum caused him to skid. As there was no charming officer to save him this time around, and Sophia was not about to render the same service, Howl plummeted face-first into the ground.

"Sophia, what is the meaning of this?" Howl sprung up to his feet. "I fear I have _dirt _on my _nose_." Promptly Howl pulled out his hand mirror to check. "Yes, just as I feared; and on the very tip too – I look quite absurd – Sophia?" Howl had finally noticed something was wrong.

Sophia had not moved an inch and was staring intently at the ground as she addressed him. "Howell, I'm not really up for dancing right now."

These were incomprehensible words to Howl, but he could be persuasive if need be. "Are you sure?" Howl asked sweetly. "I took you as the kind of girl who would love to dance." This was a lie, at least in part. He didn't think Sophia would love to dance; he thought Sophia would love to dance _with him_.

"Well, I do – or at least, I used to." Sophia looked sadly up at Howl. "My dad and I danced all the time, but I haven't since he…well, you know."

If Howl still had his heart, it might have broken just then; but since he didn't all he could think of was how the air of sadness around Sophia was suffocating him. She needed to cheer up _fast_. In short, she needed a dance.

"Come on, Sophia," Howl said kindly, wrapping his arm around her waist. "The best things happen while you're dancing." Howl then proceeded to hum a song Sophia did not recognize.

As if to agree with Howl's wise words, the musicians started up a new tune – not too fast, but not too slow either. Couples surrounding them began to sway and twirl; shouts of mirth filled the air. Indeed, it was hard even for Sophia to not want to join along.

Once Howl reached the middle of the Square he turned and took a step back to properly face Sophia. He smiled, then proceeded to bow.

"Sophia, may I have this dance?"

Sophia scoffed at his gallantry (albeit blushing slightly) and gave him her hand in consent.

Howl then gently took her left hand in his right and placed his remaining hand firmly on her waist. That same mysterious force of magic Howl had felt earlier that day coursed between them. Sophia seemed oblivious of it, but it made Howl nervous. He didn't like feeling unsure of himself.

Howl soon forgot his worries as they began to dance. They flitted this way and that – always touching and never breaking eye contact. His glassy emerald eyes bored into her creamy hazel ones*. Occasionally Howl, being his flamboyant self, would lift Sophia into the air unexpectedly. Whenever this happened, Sophia would emit a surprised laugh, which Howl would follow with one of his own. Soon they were both laughing delightedly – at who knows what – and _that's_ when it happened.

But first it is necessary to describe the rest of the Square a bit. Ever since Howl and Sophia began to dance they had been the center of attention. Other dancers could not help but admire the happy couple jealously and cringe at their obvious enjoyment; they gave them space. Onlookers delighted in watching the couple's lithe movements as they gracefully waltzed about the Square; they flocked toward them. Thus, before long a large circle of people had surrounded Howl and Sophia – unbeknownst to both. Normally Howl would have been thrilled to find himself suddenly the center of admiration, but he was slightly preoccupied and had not even noticed (a very big deal, mind you). Seeing that they weren't distracting the couple in the least, the onlookers felt free to proceed to talk loudly about them.

"Would you look at her dress – where did she get such a thing? Oh, I _wish_ I knew!" a gaggle of girls questioned as Howl twirled Sophia, making the blue skirt spread out elegantly.

One of these girl's escorts was an officer who mused: "Why does that man look so very familiar? Perhaps he has a sister who is here…" For this was the very officer who had saved the lady Howl from a nasty fall earlier that day.

Another of these girls wondered: "They are both so very handsome – perhaps they know the king or are royalty themselves!"

Her burly escort chided her. "The more pressing concern is that that man is much too slight to be lifting that lovely lady. If he is not careful he will drop her, which would be a real shame."

As if to defy this man's opinion Howl once again lifted Sophia – which is when the peals of laughter had started.

Cerulean, magenta, gold, jade, and violet streaks filled the air. These sparks flew –yes quite literally flew – all around the oblivious couple. They seemed to correlate with their laughter: whenever Howl and Sophia laughed in unison the sparks appeared. Just when the couple seemed about to be swallowed up into the magnificent colors, Howl would twirl Sophia. Then the colors would briefly disappear, only to start building up again. The alarmed crowd had taken a few liberal steps back and had since begun to murmur.

"I say, would you look at that –"

"Sparks, I tell you! –"

"Quite some magic –"

"He's a wizard, I'd say –"

"That must be Wizard Howl –"

"Be careful he'll eat your –"

"_It's Wizard Howl!_"

It wasn't long before the entire Square was convinced of the identity of the dancing gentleman. In fact, the remaining dancers and onlookers crowded around to get a better look – most had never seen a real wizard before.

Seeing as the majority of people had lost interest in dancing, the irate musicians abruptly stopped playing. With no music, Howl and Sophia swayed to a stop, breathing rather heavily. Their audience burst into applause for the young dancers. Both looked bemused, as if they had somehow managed to forget they were in the middle of a loud, noisy Square.

A gentle wind swept through the Square, earning of few exclamations as it ruffled the ladies' dresses. Howl reached over to fix a piece of Sophia's hair that had escaped. But he froze mid-action, his hand hanging limply just below a strand of red-gold hair. The two stared awkwardly at each other, not saying a word. Howl leaned in closer (the surrounding crowd drew a breath); he registered Sophia's alarmed eyes, but ignored them. He only wanted to–

"_NO!_"

Howl jumped back, shocked. It was a woman who had shouted. He swung his head around, trying to find the source of the sickening cry. He had an eerie feeling – the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. As if on cue, Arabella stepped out into the middle of the circle. Except she wasn't Arabella – she looked quite demented and not at all beautiful or charming; clearly, the Witch of the Waste was losing hold of her disguise.

She swiftly lunged for Howl at the same time Howl lunged for Sophia. Howl wrapped his arms around Sophia's shoulders (in what could be taken as an embrace) and murmured a few well-chosen words.

There was a blinding flash – and then a resonating crack. The Witch howled and the crowd dissolved in confusion: the couple had disappeared.

* * *

*****insert your preferred Sophie eye color here :D

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**A/N: **Sooooooooo, I was going to write some more…but I didn't…besides this feels like the natural place to end. I've actually had this written for quite some time, it just needed editing (heh heh).

Send your thoughts my way please ^^ This chapter gave me some trouble while writing it…I'm not sure I did it justice. Review and you may very well be rewarded. It IS a long weekend after all and exams are over…(hint hint nudge nudge)

Questions, comments, cantankerous statements? XD

What do YOU think will happen next? ^.^

PS I've got this song stuck in my head:

"The best things happen while you're dancing  
Things you would not do at home  
Come naturally on the floor  
For dancing soon becomes romancing  
When you hold a girl in your arms  
That you've never held before  
Even guys with two left feet  
Come out alright if the girl is sweet  
If by chance their cheeks should meet while dancing  
Proving that the best things happen while you dance"


	8. In Which May Day Ends

In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse

Chapter 8

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**A/N: **Hello again, it probably seems that the world is coming in an end - I've never updated twice in one weekend before...Actually I started writing this as soon as I posted chapter 7 (surprising, no?). I think I had a tad too much fun writing it, but you be the judge of that. As always, enjoy ^^

**Dedication: **To Tek Sonay…I think one of your offhand suggestions might have wormed its way in here.

**Disclaimer: **The name's Jones. Diana Wynne Jones. By that of course I mean _not_ – I am _not_ the esteemed Diana Wynne Jones. _Silly me _I keep forgetting_._

_

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_

In Which May Day Ends

Howl was imagining things – he _thought_ he had heard someone softly calling his name. Curiously, it seemed to be coming from Sophia, however Howl was pretty sure this was just another one of the Witch's tricks to keep him off guard. It had to be – why would Sophia be calling his name? Besides, it was distracting him which was undoubtedly what the Witch had intended. Still he wondered…

This was the price of casting too many spells at once. Even for a wizard as talented (and handsome) as Howl, it was hard to keep hold of reality when one had intersecting tracking spells and decoys running simultaneously – not to mention a love-spurned Witch hot on one's trail. Thus Howl could not be sure who or _what _exactly was calling his name. The Witch – Sophia – a spell – a smitten stranger – himself? The possibilities ranged on. To make matters simpler he concluded the Witch had managed to cast an _addere timeo_* spell on him in the Square. It was the only option that did not make his head and or chest throb painfully.

Afraid he had been heading in the same direction for far too long, Howl took a sharp right down a deserted ally. He had been running mechanically and murmuring under his breath for quite some time now. The only thing he was definitely aware of was Sophia's warm hand in his, as he dragged her once again through the streets of Market Chipping. Luckily he had managed to grab her in the nick of time back in the Square. He shuddered to think what the Witch would've done if she'd gotten her slimy hands on either of them. With newfound resolution, Howl refocused his efforts on slithering out of the Witch's impending grasp.

"Howell."

A warm breath trickled down Howl's neck. This time he was certain he had not imagined it. He glanced left and right, closed his eyes (yes, the Witch was off his trail for now), and sprinted onward down the alley.

"_Howell._" A little stronger this time. _She must be close_. Perhaps one of his spells had gone horribly wrong.

"_Howell!_" Howl glanced frantically around – only he and Sophia appeared to be in the alley, but he would not put it beyond the Witch to have divined an invisibility spell. In a panic he picked Sophia up princess-style and sprung into the air. He was quite sure the Witch had never learned an effective flight spell. Sophia squirmed angrily and opened her mouth in protest.

"Shhh," Howl said, placing two long fingers over her mouth. "I won't let her get us," he murmured.

Apparently this answer was not pleasing to Sophia. She grabbed hold of Howl's wrist and yanked it away from her mouth. "Howell, you will tell me what is going on _this instant_! And you will put me _down_." Sophia's eyes flashed daggers, daring him to contradict her.

And Howl, in surprise at both Sophia's tone and sudden closeness, dropped her.

In Howl's defense, he had not been himself since his recent run in with the Witch. It was the second time he'd seen her _that day_, for crying out loud! With Calcifer's help he had successfully avoided the sight of her for three months, seven days, twenty-one hours, three minutes, and five – no six – seconds, and today – on May Day of all days – he had seen her _twice_. He didn't want to make it a third time.

Luckily Howl had enough wits about him to swoop down and save Sophia from her impending splat. To her credit, she did not let out one scream or cry for help. She looked more shocked than anything. Howl cradled her in his arms –quite afraid he had permanently damaged her psyche – and set her down gently on the nearest rooftop.

"Sophia? Sophia are you alright?" Howl's voice spoke nothing but grave concern. He even momentarily lost track of his precious tracking spells, and the Witch for that matter.

"Sophia?" Howl leaned in closer. He needed to see her face.

_ SMACK! _Sophia slapped him, _hard_, across his perfectly chiseled jaw line. _Damnation! _Howl thought, _that's going to leave a mark!_

Howl glared at Sophia; Sophia glared out Howl. Her expression, which had at first been one of astonishment, was now a mixture of annoyance and anger.

"Wizard Howell, you will tell me what is going on _this_ instant – I have been trying to ask you _politely_ since we somehow magicked out of the Square. I am _not _going to allow you to drag me across all these streets and carry (and _drop_) me without so much as a word, unless I know _what it's for_." She ended with folding her arms across her chest, willing him to contradict her.

Howl just stared at Sophia as if seeing her for the first time. He massaged his swelling jaw gently, wondering where the timid girl had gone.

"Ahem, well…" _This is awkward_, thought Howl, _but at least there were no witnesses_. "You shee," Howl had his hand spread tightly across his cheek, which muffled his already slurred words. "Dis woman, dee Witch uft da Waste, shee's…" Howl let out a long sigh and held one long figure up. When it began to glow he ran it across his now black and blue jaw line. Sophia had the courtesy to look slightly sympathetic.

"That's better. In short this Witch is chasing me – and it looks like you are involved."

Sophia pursed her lips. "Well then," she huffed, "you could at least let me help."

Howl looked at her skeptically.

"I _do _live here you know," she tacked on. Beginning to see the logic of this Howl silently consented. He made to pick her up.

"We're not trying _that _again, are we?" Sophia took a step back hurriedly. "Anyway doesn't flying draw attention to ourselves – you're a wizard, can't you just disguise us instead? Why did you say this Witch is after you again?"

Howl's head spun with all the questions, "Look lady – you only get one question, which you used already. Secondly, I _know _what I'm doing. Come on."

Wary to pick Sophia up again, Howl merely grabbed both of her hands and led her off the roof. They floated back down to the alley way and struck a brisk pace. Right, left, sharp right, backtrack, right again. They were now in a maze of dingy alley ways, and it was getter dark. They were most definitely lost. Howl glanced pathetically at Sophia, his eyes pleading. She smiled.

"This way," she said, grabbing Howl's hand and lead him into the darkness. In truth, Sophia was just lost as Howl was –she rarely ventured out of her father's hat shop these days. But she was determined to best a wizard at directions, _plus _she was confident she'd find her way once they got back to the main road.

Howl and Sophia were edging their way to the end of a long, narrow passage. It was not strictly meant for people; only little kids and alley cats would've been able to move through it with ease. As it was, both Howl and Sophia's shoulders scraped the sides of the dirty walls. Howl, who was quite mortified by this, was forced to follow Sophia sideways as to prevent stains to his suit. They were so scrunched that Howl was also obliged to let go of Sophia's hand.

As they were inching closer to the exit – which in both Howl and Sophia's minds had taken on a glowing mirage-like quality – two men appeared at the end of the ally way. Except they were not men – they were dark purple, had horridly large noses, and apparently no eyes. Their absurd top hats threatened to topple over as they frantically glanced back and forth, probably sniffing out their prey.

Sophia let out an annoyed humph when she saw their way was blocked. Unfortunately, the blob men seemed to hear it. One pointed an obtrusively long nose down the alley in their direction. Howl hurriedly put one hand around Sophia's mouth and the other on her shoulder, dragging her to the ground. They crouched like that for some time, until the men passed. Howl let out a ragged breath, happy to have avoided a skirmish with the Witch's henchmen.

However, Howl rejoiced too soon: the blob men had heard him and rushed back to Howl and Sophia's narrow alley way, bringing a few friends. They began oozing along the sides of the walls, toppling over each other, and making horribly squelching noises. It was as if they were in a race to see who could reach Howl and Sophia first.

Howl wasted no time. "Pardon me, Sophia," Howl said with a dashing smirk. He hoisted her up and the two shot out of the alley. Yet at the last moment one of the blob men stretched towards them, and grabbed hold of Sophia's ankle. She struggled, stuck in an odd tug of war between Howl and the blob man.

"Let _go_!" She told the blob man in frustration. To general astonishment, he did. Before Sophia could begin to wonder how this had happened, Howl transported the two of them to a faraway rooftop. Both collapsed on the roof, exhausted.

"That was close," Sophia noted.

Just then, a blinding flash lit up the sky, followed by a sonorous _BOOM_. Howl, thinking the worst, snaked his arm protectively around Sophia's shoulder. He remained positioned like that, sitting side by side with Sophia, even after he realized he was only seeing Calcifer's fireworks display. It seemed like the fire demon hadn't gone back on his word after all.

It was different from what Howl had imagined. Yes, Calcifer's fireworks were top notch as always – booming, crackling, and screeching displays of the fire demon's prowess filled the air, complete with blinding and astonishing flashes of color. However something was different. Why, only that morning he had imagined himself watching the fireworks with a girl in his arms who was too afraid to face the fireworks on her own. This seemed silly now. Sophia was positioned next to him on the rooftop. They weren't exactly touching anymore, but they weren't exactly _not _touching either. Rather than being frightened by the loud noises and flashes, Sophia seemed enraptured with it. One would think she had never seen anything like it before – which in fact she probably hadn't. Howl chuckled softly – it was clear Sophia liked Calcifer's spark.

And so the two passed the evening like that: Sophia intently watching the fireworks, and Howl watching her.

* * *

"Bye, Howell. Thanks for…" Sophia trailed off thoughtfully. She was standing just outside the front door of the hat shop. Howl was a step below her. "Thanks for, well, everything." She smiled sweetly and turned, leaving a fwoosh of red-gold hair in her wake.

"W-wait! Sophia!" Howl spluttered. Sophia paused, hand on the door knob. "Meet me at Cesari's tomorrow?" Sophia was looking fixedly at the door, not Howl, and consequently missed his slightly flushed face.

Sophia turned to face him, wide eyed. "Well I have to work in the morning – I'll have to meet you there at two." She gave Howl one last smile and went inside.

Howl simply stood there on the step as the darkness slowly crept in, engulfing his person. He felt – it was almost as if…Unable to remain still any longer, Howl soared into the air and floated happily all the back to the castle. He was so distracted that he even failed to notice a _very _large figure looming out of the bushes, making its way to the shop marked "Hatter's"; atop its head was a _very _tacky hat.

* * *

*For those curious, apparently _addere timeo_ is Latin for "to cause fear" according to a D&D spells site. Lol I can't believe I found that site either.

**A/N:** You all know what happens next…well, probably. I sure hope so…haha. Don't worry, there is still a bit of story left to be told even though May Day is technically over. (I will drag it out as long as I can ^^; )

I can't tell you how many times I slipped up and called Sophia Sophie this chapter, only to have to go back and fix it. Gah.

PS If you are looking for something interesting to do, go read (or at least skim) some of Diana Wynne Jones' autobiography (it's on her official website...apparently I'm not allowed to post links). I just love her writing! Plus it's interesting ^^

**Please review and tell me your thoughts ^^ Pretty please? I got my wisdom teeth out Friday and reviews make the swelling go down. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself haha.**


	9. Which is Split Three Ways

_In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse_

_Chapter 9_

* * *

**A/N: **I am a horribly negligent person, I know! If you are not too disgusted in my five month absence from this fanfic, I would much appreciate your feedback on this chapter. Since you have probably forgotten what even happened in chapter 8, here is a quick little summary. _Sophia and Howl were still on the run from the Witch of the Waste. During the course of this, Howl managed to drop Sophia (earning him a slap). When the blob men cornered them, Sophia somehow bested the Witch's henchmen and the two fled once again, this time landing on a roof top just in time for Calcifer's firework show. Howl then took Sophia home, and the two made plans to meet the next day at Cesari's. Neither realized there was a figure lurking in the darkness…_

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine. (five months hasn't changed _that _much)

* * *

_Which is Split Three Ways_

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face Howl," Calcifer complained, "it's giving me the creeps."

Howl, who was indeed staring into Calcifer's flickering flames with a curious expression, did not heed him. If anything his self-satisfied smirk grew. Calcifer tried moaning, groaning, crackling, and popping, but nothing, it seemed, would break Howl's blank stare.

Just then, Michael rushed down the stairs. "I've done it! I've finished that wind spell you gave me Master Howl! Master Howl?"

Michael approached the fireplace with a wary expression. "What do you think's wrong with him?"

Calcifer opened his mouth to speak, but only let out an annoyed pop. Deciding it wouldn't be such a bother to answer one question, Howl spoke.

"Nothing is wrong with me!" he sang happily.

"Yes there is."

"There most certainly is."

Calcifer and Michael nodded at each other sagely.

Howl broke out of his dreamy gaze to stare in annoyed astonishment at his friends. "No there's not! It's just that…well…I've met –"

" – someone?" Calcifer guessed. "A beautiful damsel? Charmed by _your _charmed looks?"

"Oh Howl," Michael groaned. "Should I be on the lookout for angry aunts wielding canes? You know how I dread them. Still have a bruise from last time, in fact." Michael absentmindedly rubbed his shin.

"No, the weepy ones are the worst – they drip all over me," Calcifer put in.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Howl cried, his arms writhing around his head as if to ward off some bug. "It's nothing like that. Well," Howl reconsidered, "she is beautiful, I will allow that. But you two are overreacting. Leave me in peace."

Michael and Calcifer eyed each other; they rarely listened to Howl's requests. This was no exception.

"So…what is she like?"

" – what's her name?"

Howl's friends continued to bombard him with questions and inquiries about the mysterious May Day girl. Howl, for once, was glad to answer any questions and praised Sophia until Calcifer and Michael grew tired of their inquisition. Howl continued his praise of Sophia to himself long after the other two had dozed off. He himself couldn't sleep – not in the anticipation of tomorrow.

* * *

She retrieved her compact mirror and gazed into it – examining all angles. Despite the cacophony that was going on in her head, her features reflected none of it. She appeared perfectly _perfect_, which was the point of the spell in the first place. She sighed a large huff, fogging up the mirror ever so slightly. No, it had not been a good day for the Witch of the Waste.

It should have been though. It was May Day – the perfect day for catching strapping young men – who, through her experience, were perfectly amenable to throw themselves at her feet in the height of the festivities. What's more, she had finally come to a decision regarding her pet project of a spell, and was ready to put it into action. But for that she needed Howl – which had brought her to Market Chipping in the first place.

The Witch shifted as delicately as she could in her hiding place. She had a rather good view of the street – only a few branches obscured her view. Howl – blast him – had just flown off and that troubling girl had just closed up shop. She wanted to jump out into the street and do what needed to be done – branches were sticking and poking in places they never should – but she forced herself to be patient. The street was still full of passerby, so she had to stay put.

She contented herself with examining the handsome men who passed by, picking out their best features. It was her favorite pastime and it made her soon forget about the intrusive branches and her appallingly dreadful May Day. Before long, her thoughts drifted into more pleasing waters still: her task to create the perfect male specimen. For this indeed was her pet project spoken of earlier, the very same that had brought her to Market Chipping and of which Howl was an integral part.

Yes, the Witch had set out to create the ideal man. She had long since given up on the idea that one man had the capacity to please her. Ever since Howl… – but the Witch quashed that livid train of thought. That was why she had to assemble the perfect man out of others less worthy. She delighted in the thought. There would, naturally, have to be some part of a prince present – for she had always been destined to be Queen. And, of course, a wizard or two must contribute. Moreover her specimen's beauty must very nearly match her own.

Howl met two of the three requirements. The witch had toyed with the idea of using all of Howl with a handful of spells to control him, but that would simply not do. She had once fancied herself very much in love with Howl, but she had since seen the error of her ways. She now regarded it only as a weakness – one she must take pains not to succumb to again. Howl was handsome and talented, but he was too strong-willed – which is to say lazy and evading. He had run away from her…no, she could not use all of Howl – that foolish man.

Her plan for that May Day was to lure Howl into some sort of trap and bring him to her castle in the Wastes in order to start the spell. She just needed to get him alone…she had tried a good deal of disguises on him earlier in the day – which all failed miserably and merely boosted his ego. More than 26 of her most beautiful disguises – wasted! And she had still not been able to get him alone; she only succeeded in convincing Howl that multitudes of women were in love with him. After that she had missed her chance, the Witch concluded dejectedly. For though he was virtually always alone, that _wretched _girl was with him.

She thought she had had them cornered in that chase through the streets of Market Chipping. But the wily Howl somehow managed to escape her _and _her blob men. The Witch frowned (if she had been in plain view people surely would have fainted at the sight). That part she really did not understand. She had the nagging suspicion that the dim-witted girl had _helped_ him somehow, but she couldn't place it.

Well, however that mousy girl had managed to shake off her henchmen, it didn't matter. She had still been able to track the two of them to the rooftop – thanks to the blob man's slime still being stuck to that impertinent lady's boot. She had monitored them during the fireworks display. Thankfully though, Howl had kept his hands to himself. If he had tried to continue what she _thought _had almost happened during their dance (before she interrupted them, that is)…if Howl had _kissed _her…

The Witch lost her nerve. She stormed out of the bushes she had been hiding in.

_Worthless girl!_ her thoughts raged. _To think Howl would go so far – to even consider...Howl _is mine_!_

She glowered at the now dark sky. She glared at the tidy houses, the smart looking street – it all taunted her.

The Witch raised her arm in what seemed a potentially violent move, but really just turned out to be her reaching for her compact again. She surveyed her face once more. With deliberate slowness, she tilted her wide-brimmed hat. A grim sneer had taken over her features.

She strode across the street with purpose. The whoosh of her dress and the clunk of her heels on the cobblestone ruined the would-be silence. She ascended the steps with ease and – after muttering a spell under her breath – pulled down on the door handle. A sonorous click resounded in the darkness. She flung the door wide open and marched in the Hatter's hat shop.

The gape of astonishment on the girl's face was priceless.

"I could have sworn I locked that," the girl muttered.

"Such a tacky little shop full of tacky little hats," the Witch ranted. "But you are by far the tackiest thing here!" The Witch scowled. Even "tacky" fell short of describing how the Witch felt of the girl's meddling in her plans.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I have to ask you to leave," the hat girl said steadily, walking to the entrance. "The store is closed."

The Witch regarded her in amusement. This was rich. "Standing up to the Witch of the Waste – that's plucky."

"The Witch of the Waste!" the girl whispered, as if she had never heard such a thing.

But the Witch was drawing in her hatred, weaving a spell that would curse its recipient and leave them much _much_ worse off than if they had never meddled in her affairs. Once she had chosen the right words, the Witch released her power, filling the room with her spite.

Then, drawing herself up to full height, she proclaimed with glee: "the best part about that spell is that you can't tell anyone about it! My regards to Howl." With that, she left the shop, vanishing into the night.

* * *

She was gone.

Sophie surveyed her withered hands, hunched form, and aching limbs. She knew it was pointless to ignore the Witch's spell, and set her mind to deciding what to do about it. Clearly she couldn't stay in the hat shop any longer. She would miss Fanny, Martha, and Lettie, but leaving was the only way to spare them from fretting over her condition. She must go away, far away, Sophie concluded. In fact, part of her was glad – glad that the Witch had given her, the eldest of three, the chance to have an adventure of her own.

Sophie waddled over to the tiny mirror on the wall. Judging by the lines in her face, she had to be at least ninety. _Well, Sophie, this isn't so bad, is it? You're in pretty good shape and your clothes finally suit you. _She smiled a crooked-ninety-year-old-lady grin at her reflection, but then paused, regret sinking in. She supposed this meant she would not be seeing Howl tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N: **To clear up any confusion, I call Sophie "Sophie" and not "Sophia" in the last part since it is from Sophie's POV and she should be aware of what her real name is (despite the Witch's curse haha).

Soooooooooooo, how was it? I fear I'm a tad rusty.

Also, just a heads up, next chapter we return to solely Howl's POV, weaving in and out of book references. Until next time :)


	10. In Which Beauty Fails

_In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse_

_Chapter 10_

* * *

**A/N: **If this chapter seems over the top and angsty, well, that is only because Howl _is _over the top and angsty. And moody. Let him whine. He'll be better next chapter, I promise. [Plus a little angst is always fun: angst, angst, angst, angst]

Side note: we've reached double digit chapters! Woo hoo :D

**Disclaimer: **It's still a no.

**Dedication: **To you, dear reviewer – because you make me happy. ^^

* * *

In Which Beauty Fails 

Howl was flying.

Not walking on air, but truly flying – soaring horizontally through the brightening sky.

Below him stretched the outskirts of The Waste, but the landscape did not deserve its horrid name. Each foothill he soared over was a promise of a hidden pool – so glass-like it could have been a patch of sky – or a meadow filled with innumerable flowers. The wind was refreshing; sweet and cool, not sticky.

Before long he passed over the foothills and reached the most expansive meadow yet. The flowers seemed to stretch on for miles. He touched down lightly, careful not to crush any of the precious blossoms. With his concentration elsewhere, he failed to notice he was not alone.

Someone else stood in the field of flowers, back facing toward him. Her dress billowed in the wind. That had to be –

"Sophia!" Howl called out, or tried to – his voice didn't seem to be working properly.

He started to run toward her, but the distance between them would not diminish. If anything, it grew. Despairing, Howl frantically skipped over the daffodils and irises and leaped over countless roses and daisies; All to reach Sophia faster. But something caught his bare foot, and he fell face-forward, earning a mouth full of petals and several grass stains.

Howl struggled to get up, and saw Sophia was now next to him. He reached for her, but then tried to recoil as her vice-like grip grabbed hold of his arm.

Howl stood in horror. Her face melted away, revealing that of the Witch of the Waste. The Witch gave him an evil smirk, and just then Howl started sprouting hyacinths out of his body.

They were everywhere; his eyes, nose, torso, mouth. They were suffocating him. How was he supposed to_ breath? _

...

...

A thud of spell books hitting wood resonated in Howl's ear, followed by the jostling of the table his head was resting on.

Coming to, Howl sat up in a jolt and promptly slid off his stool. He was then caught in a coughing fit, determined to rid his body of those blasted hyacinths, but just as he was starting to realize there _were_ no hyacinths and that the smell was simply _himself_, Michael abruptly interrupted his thoughts.

"So, Master Howl, here are the spell books. You promised to teach me some magic today, _remember_? 'In exchange for letting me off the hook for May Day,'" Michael mimicked. "Sound familiar?"

Howl glanced around the castle, only half listening to what Michael was saying. Calcifer's flames flickered about, reflecting off the castle walls, competing with the bright light streaming through the windows.

Then Howl stood up in a start.

"What time is it?" he questioned Michael.

"Just past one," was the hesitant reply.

_So late?_ Howl thought frantically.

"We've been trying to wake you from your _beauty sleep_ for hours," Calcifer chimed in, cackling.

"Damnation!" Howl exclaimed. "Calcifer, quick, make hot water for my bath."

Without another word Howl sprinted upstairs.

* * *

Michael and Calcifer froze, gob-smacked at Howl's sudden reappearance. Howl Jenkins – _the_ Howl Jenkins – had just beautified himself in 47 minutes _flat_. That had to be a new record or something.

He looked impeccable too, not a bleached hair out of place. His jacket was crisp, his black pants laundered, and his white tunic practically glistened in the firelight. An overwhelming smell of hyacinths filled the air, stronger than usual. Warily, Calcifer and Michael eyed each other. Clearly Howl had gone overboard (and in such a time crunch too!). Either A), he had finally gone insane (they had already discussed the probability of this event occurring sooner or later, and so it was not such a terrible surprise), or B), he was exceptionally eager to woo this girl (in which case the sooner it was over, the better).

Impervious to his friend's stunned, and slightly appalled looks, Howl bid them a hasty farewell.

The bang of the castle door still seemed to echo moments after he had left.

Michael silently hoped Howl would court the girl quickly so they could resettle into their semi-normalcy. Calcifer just prayed this wouldn't end in someone dripping on him.

* * *

Howl arrived just outside of Cesari's as the last chime filled the air, signaling to the passerby in the Square that it was 2 o'clock sharp. He quickly whipped out his hand mirror, making sure nothing got rumpled in his journey over; he had not been able to fly as leisurely as he would have liked, and he feared his hair was atrocious. After Howl was satisfied the he did indeed look rather handsome – verified by the fact that several damsels fainted from sheer eye contact – he began looking eagerly around for Sophia.

As he casually leaned against the brick wall of Cesari's, and glanced through the densely populated Square, a fearful thought began to take hold of him. _What if he had missed Sophia?_ She did seem like the kind of girl who could be annoyingly punctual. But if that was the case, shouldn't she have waited longer? Or had that cautious fear that had possessed her when he first saw Sophia the other day returned? Perhaps she had not come at all.

Howl's chiseled features settled into a pout. Several stopped to stare in awe, and a few even stopped breathing altogether.

Howl racked his brains for some last hope. Aha! She worked in that hat shop – she had been working up until now. She was probably held up at the shop. _Of course_ she was held up at the shop. She wouldn't shy away from him; she _agreed _to meet him. What's more, last night she had turned out to be much less timid than he initially judged. Plus he was rather dashing, an opinion that seemed to be echoed by the fainting ladies in his midst. She would come.

...

...

The clock-tower chimed in every quarter hour, half hour, quarter till, and finally again at the hour. That sonorous bell, echoing through his insides, only reminded Howl of his current disappointment. He came to despise the sound of it. Before long, Howl lost count of the chimes. He suspected he even dozed off for a bit, slouched there against Cesari's, the back of his clothes all rumpled. At any rate, it was darker now, and Sophia was not coming.

Howl was too confused to function. Shakily he delved into his pocket for his trusty hand mirror, and studied his reflection in the fading light. His glassy green eyes shown in the dim light, and the approaching shadows gave his face a mysterious and – if possible – an even more handsome air. There was no denying it. He _was _beautiful. Then…

"Why?" Howl's voice came out ragged and strained from disuse.

Slowly, like an injured man, Howl stood up. His joints were stiff from leaning against the wall all afternoon. He stumbled along blindly, away from Cesari's. For the moment, he did not care that he looked rather foolish.

Howl's thoughts raged, depression pressing in on him. He could sense the Spirits of Darkness were just a moment away from engulfing him entirely. Eager to escape, Howl barged in to the nearest building. By chance it turned out to be a bar.

Howl stumbled over to the closest stool and slumped into it. Face in palms, he let out a despairing wail.

"But I'm _supposed _to be _pretty_!"

He let out a ragged breath. The world used to make _such_ sense.

The bartender bustled over to see what the ruckus was about.

"Hey pretty-boy," he said upon sizing up his new customer, "do you want something or not?"

Wordlessly Howl plopped his money onto the dirty countertop.

* * *

Michael had challenged Calcifer to yet another staring contest. Ostentatiously, Michael wanted to beat the cheating fire demon (after all, Calcifer _deliberately _distracted him with all those crackles and pops), but Michael also did it to keep Calcifer entertained. He could sense the fire demon was either bored or lonely – probably both – and staring contests were just about the only game the two of them could play together that didn't end in third degree burns.

Just because Michael had yet to win that evening didn't make Calcifer feel like going easy on him. In fact, he upped his game, and added a few more tricks. When wagging his long, fiery tongue through the air had no effect (Michael was expecting this by now), Calcifer tested how close his flames could get to Michael's nose without actually touching him. Sure enough, Michael went cross-eyed, yelped, and blinked nearly all at the same time.

"I win again!" the fire demon cackled.

"That was dirty Calcifer!" complained Michael.

"Hey I never said I –"

The rest of the fire demon's sentence was drowned out by the opening of the castle door and the ferocious winds of the wastes that swept in as a result.

"Howl, shut that door at once! I'll blow out!" Calcifer waited for Howl to comply, but he merely tripped toward a nearby stool and tried to sit down. Howl, however, missed his target entirely, and seemed mildly astonished that he was now sprawled across the floor. "Michael?" Calcifer pleaded.

As soon as the door had been shut, Calcifer re-emerged from the logs he had been hiding under and gave Howl a stern, fiery gaze.

"Howl, you look like hell," crackled Calcifer.

There was a muffled grunt in response.

"You better take him upstairs," the fire demon addressed Michael. "I'll move the castle away from Market Chipping. I have a feeling Howl won't be welcome back there anytime soon."

* * *

**A/N:** I like to hear your thoughts; 100th reviewer gets something awesome, maybe.

Oh, and I know italics are standard for dreams, but that rather gives the beginning away don't you think?

Alert me of any spelling mistakes if you see them; I can't catch 'em all.

Haha and I know I should feel sorry for Howl, but unfortunately I can only bring myself to feel amusement at his expense. Oh well. It's sometimes hard to feel sorry for a vain man no longer in possession of his heart.


	11. In Which Howl Gets There

_In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse_

_Chapter 11_

**A/N: **Writing only from Howl's POV gives too narrow a picture. So I need to throw in some Cal and Sophie, just to make things flow a bit. But no worries, I will try to stick mainly to Howl. He is Howl after all. He doesn't like being ignored. ^^

On a side note, I'm having fun. ^^ Are you having fun yet?

**Dedication: **To all my lovely reviewers, especially dribnevar who submitted the 100th review. Reading your comments is always a pleasure.

**Disclaimer: **Nope. Never mine. I do not profit off Jones' book or Miyazaki's film. That is all.

* * *

In Which Howl Gets There

All was still inside the moving castle. Aside from Calcifer's intermittent popping noises, it was silent as well. The main chamber had long since been deserted by the young wizard and his apprentice, but Calcifer was wide awake. He could not shake the disconcerting feeling that he was being followed, stalked. And so there was nothing left to do but force the castle to groan across the Wastes, and wait.

Calcifer let fly a few sparks to amuse himself.

_Hiss. Crackle. _

Howl was in awful shape, Calcifer mused. Just what had possessed him to get so stinking drunk?

_Hiss. Sizzle._

Probably just one of his moods.

_Fizz. Crackle. _

But still, had this, this _girl_ been the cause of it?

_Spit. Sizzle. _

Most likely.

_Pop. _

Well it wouldn't be the first time. Though it was rare that Howl didn't get what he was after.

_Hiss. Sputter. _

Perhaps Howl was stood up? Calcifer grinned, amused by the thought.

_Hiss – Fizz – Crackle – Spit – Sizzle. POP!_

Calcifer was diverted from his merriment by the sudden impression that his stalker had nearly found him. He could almost imagine him outside the castle now, running alongside and shouting _"Are you going to let me in or not?"_ Calcifer was nothing if not a curious fire demon, and he did loathe when things got _boring_ around the castle so…why not? The fire demon slowed the castle's pace, but only – _only_ – for curiosity's sake, he told himself.

Having established that fact, he regarded the door in eager anticipation.

_Snap. Crackle. _

BOOM!

The door flew violently open, nearly coming off its hinges. In the midst of the filth strewn about the castle entranceway laid an old lady sprawled across the floor. Her moans and groans threatened to wake the whole castle.

_Well,_ Calcifer thought.

_This was unexpected. _

…

…

Sophie Hatter could scarcely believe her luck. She was sitting on some sort of barstool – aching joints and all – in "horrible" Howl's moving castle, having what could only be described as a bizarre staring contest with none other than a fire demon.

As she gazed into the orange flames and met the demon's cunning eyes, Sophie tried to assess how she felt about her situation. Honestly, she wasn't sure whether she should laugh or cry. The whole thing was so silly. How did she end up _here _of all places – in Howl's castle? What if he recognized her? Did she _want_ him to recognize her? Perhaps he dreadfully mad at her for failing to meet him the other day?

Sophie shook her head vigorously. Her mind was clearly disintegrating. It came with being the eldest of three.

"Well?" the fire demon called Calcifer crackled, "do we have an agreement?"

Sophie attempted to focus on the matter at hand. Though she knew she should never trust a fire demon, she didn't really see what choice she had. It was probably her best chance of breaking the curse, and really, she was a ninety year old woman, what did she have to lose?

"Fine," Sophie said slowly in her now-aged voice, "it's a deal."

The last thing she remembered seeing was Calcifer's pleased smile, only now it seemed a tad friendlier than before.

Then she fell asleep.

* * *

Howl breathed in slowly – one might even say contentedly. His chest rose up and down; breathing in, breathing out. He sighed and sunk lower into his bed, underneath his many covers. All was perfect.

Then, he opened his eyes.

"Hell's teeth!" Howl howled. "I've got a hangover!"

Groaning, Howl flopped back onto his pillow and rolled on his side. He tried desperately not to think. Just sink back into the silken sheets. The sheets that were so soft…wonderfully soft, like Sophia's hand clasped in his…

_Whoa! _Howl's eyes snapped open again. Where had that come from? Sophia wanted nothing to do with him, that much was clear from yesterday. But still – Howl's brow furrowed in intense thought – she _had_ seemed to like him on May Day, albeit tentatively. And if there was one thing Howl prided himself on, it was his insight into the mind of the opposite sex; he was never wrong.

Struggling to put away all notions of his massive headache aside, Howl resolved to consider this whole matter thoroughly, and above all, rationally.

Fact one: _he was beautiful_. Irresistible even. His spells saw to that. They only amplified his god-given good looks. His silky blond hair, piercing green* eyes, and tall, lean figure made all the town girls squeal with pleasure. And his smile – oh his smile! He had been told on several occasions that it was his dashing smirk that had stolen his maiden's heart upon first sight! And his perfume – his hyacinth perfume! It attracted ladies like flowers attracted bees. That was the point really; females were always more at ease around the smell of flowers. He had never figured out why, but there was no reason to question – it just worked. In short, by everyone's standards (including his own), he was irresistible.

Ergo, Sophia most likely thought him irresistible as well. Howl allowed himself a small smile.

Fact two: _Sophia had wanted to meet him the other day_. She _agreed_ to meet him. She could have said no. (Not that he would have taken no for an answer, but that was beside the point.) He was sure she had enjoyed herself as much as he had on May Day. He could not have imagined the connection. It was not mere fancy.

Then…what? Why hadn't Sophia come?

Perhaps – maybe – she did not come simply because she couldn't? Howl considered this for a moment. She should have at least stopped by later, Howl mused. He had been there for _hours_. But if Sophia had been delayed, how was he supposed to have known? She couldn't have told Howl; Sophia had no means of contacting him.

Howl chuckled. He was so stupid! _Of course_ Sophia was delayed. Something must have come up, and she wasn't sure how to tell him about it. She probably felt terrible. Howl sighed. He knew he was too beautiful to be ignored. The facts were there. They never lied.

Rising to get dressed, still ignoring the shooting pain in his head, Howl attempted to mentally prepare himself for something he never ever – not in a million years – thought he would do (on account of his bone structure).

Howl was going to a hat shop.

…

…

Sophie had just woken up on her uncomfortable stool, only to have to pretend to be asleep again. She let out a loud snore, for effect.

Someone was rushing down the stairs. The person's footsteps were light – graceful even. It seemed odd to Sophie that she could judge if someone was graceful just from their footsteps, but such was the case.

A sudden feeling of dread interrupted her musings. She was puzzled as to why for a moment, until she heard Calcifer greet the newcomer.

"Hello Howl."

Oh.

Sophie stiffened in her chair.

"You look better," the fire demon added.

This comment had Sophie concerned for a moment, wondering what might have happened before to inspire such a remark, when she promptly reminded herself it was not her place to care.

Right.

Sophie opened her eye a crack. Howl was looming over the fireplace, making sure Calcifer had enough wood. Then he turned on his toes and strode out of the castle hurriedly, not sparing a second glance in Sophie's direction.

_Well. _

Sophie couldn't help but be a little miffed. Though she had not expected him to recognize her, had he not even realized there was a ninety-year old woman sleeping by the fire?

Sophie spent the rest of the day in a cleaning frenzy, not at all pleased with Wizard Howl.

* * *

Howl had been staring at the hat shop sign, which displayed "The Hatter's" in bold script, for some time now, caught in his own musings. Was it just a coincidence that the Hatters made hats? Or had they changed their name for convenience's sake? Perhaps the family had felt compelled to live up to their name and actually become hatters. After being called a Hatter for so long, one probably accepts it as the only natural profession open to him or her. So they had practically no choice in the matter, Howl sighed. He got the impression that the Hatters were and interesting bunch.

At any rate, Howl really had been standing on that top step for a while; people were beginning to stare. He supposed he better go in. Howl took one last deep breath – _courage, Howl_, he told himself – and waltzed through the door.

The shop seemed completely deserted aside from the shelves upon shelves of hats. They were clearly more geared to women, but Howl couldn't help but admire the needlework. He was sure it was Sophia's doing.

This place wasn't all that bad, Howl thought to himself. There were mirrors in every available space. He strode up to a large, floor-length one and began to admire his reflection. In the process of roaming over his beautiful visage, Howl's eyes noticed something just behind his left ear in the reflection. He spun around a walked toward it.

Before him was a jet-black hat with a large, forest-green plume sticking out of it. It was a most curious creation, Howl thought while bending over it. He began playing absentmindedly with the feather. It was almost as if this hat exuded confidence of some kind, Howl thought. Curious, Howl picked up the strange hat and strode back over to the mirror. Once there, he placed it on his head.

The effect was immediate. Howl felt different. He was brimming with confidence – more so than usual (if possible). He even felt he wore the strange hat well. Howl titled his head this way and that. _Strange_. He didn't look half bad. Using great force of will, Howl took the hat off. He again registered that he felt different. Slightly deflated even. Howl gazed at the hat wonderingly.

"Of course," Howl murmured.

The hats were _enchanted_. They all were; Right down to the seams. It had to be Sophia's doing. Howl wondered why he hadn't realized the truth at first. Was he a wizard, or wasn't he?

"Ah-hem."

Howl spun around, slightly embarrassed at having been seen wearing a hat. A pretty shop girl was standing there. At least, Howl thought he would have considered pretty a few days ago, but it was difficult to say now. How long had she been watching him? His embarrassment grew.

"Ah, yes," Howl blabbered. "Sorry I didn't see anyone there." Howl walked casually over to the counter to put the hat back in its place. "I actually came here looking for Sophia."

He looked intently at the shop girl, trying to convey the importance of his mission by telepathy alone. She only blushed.

"Er," the girl began. "Who?"

"_Sophia_," Howl said, enunciating the syllables slowly, thinking the girl was rather slow.

The girl's eyes widened.

"You can't mean Sophie, can you?" The girl looked doubtful, wondering what the handsome man could possibly want with Sophie. Getting caught in Howl's intense gaze, she blabbered on: "We actually haven't seen her for a few days. The mistress can't figure out where she might have gotten off to. This kind of thing hasn't happened before."

Howl just stood there.

"Sir?" she asked, concern filling her voice.

"Uh, yes! Thank you very much!" Howl said, forcing a smile.

Howl didn't remember opening the door, but he now found himself walking briskly down the street. He was frantically trying to organize his thoughts.

Sophia, or Sophie – whatever, he would ask her about that later. If there was a later. A feeling of dread was quickly seeping into Howl's being. All signs pointed to one fact: Sophia – Sophie – was missing. Presumably since May Day. He may have even been the last person to have contact with her.

Howl took a sharp, determined turn down the nearest alleyway, in an attempt to fool himself that he had some clear plan of where he was going. The alleyway was extremely dim. The little light there was was doing weird things to the shadows; They almost seemed to be alive. Something triggered in the back of Howl's mind: An image of the shadowy blob men chasing Sophia (er…Sophie) and him down a similar alleyway.

Howl came to an abrupt halt, gasping for air.

Could it be…was the Witch of the Waste behind all of this?

* * *

**A/N: ***[Insert your preferred eye color for Howl here.] I am quite partial to green myself, though I know in the movie they were bright blue.

While I normally don't listen to music while writing, I must confess I listened to the Howl's Moving Castle them music over and over while writing this. It now has 41 plays.

Heads up: we are moving into book territory now. While I am going to try to stay as close to the story line as possible, I am also going to delve into new perspectives/situations (I hope). I like to think all of this stuff is plausible and _could _have happened. That being said I don't want things to get boring (egads!)…so I will try to navigate waters smoothly and not quote too many book passages. Let's spice things up, shall we? xD

Also, do tell me what you thought of this chapter. I fear I felt it losing steam toward the end. Urgh.

In the words of Calcifer (sort of): _Snap – Crackle – POP!_


	12. In Which Howl Makes a Scene

_In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse_

* * *

**A/N: **Hello all! I've returned after my 4 month hiatus (a shockingly long time, I apologize), hopefully a little smarter after one semester of college. It took an embarrassingly long time to write this chapter – it really has been too long, and writing was really rough at first, but I forced myself to get over that. Anywho, enjoy this chapter, and drop me a little review to tell me your thoughts or just say hello!

**Summary: **Remember, Howl just had a brain blast and realized something bad must have happened to Sophie for her to miss their little rendezvous. We left him wondering if the Witch of the Waste could have had anything to do with this. Also, remember that Sophie gave Howl fake names for her family members. That becomes important. And for those of you who have not read the book, Sophie's two sisters switch places: Lettie is supposed to be at Cesari's, but it is actually Martha (confusing? Not really, you get used to it ^^)

**Disclaimer: **Nope. I still own nothing.

* * *

In Which Howl Makes a Scene

_Could it be…was the Witch of the Waste behind all of this?_

…

…

_Long, purposeful strides_, Howl reminded himself for the umpteenth time. _Long, purposeful strides_.

Howl was desperately trying to keep his mounting concern at bay, and was trying still more desperately not to show it. He forced a smile at a random female passerby, in an effort to prove to himself how calm he was. Unfortunately for the female, it came out as more of a tortured grin and she fainted on the spot, unable to handle the sheer beauty of his conflicting emotions.

Think Howl, _think_. Howl began to pace back and forth, forcing disgruntled passerby to side-step, eyeing the wizard warily. For once Howl barely noticed the crowd.

_By Jove,_ Howl thought to himself, _this would be so much easier if I didn't have a hangover. _

Being exhausted and confused, Howl turned to what most reasonable people do in such situations: talking to themselves.

_Right you are Howell, but no use bringing that up now, eh? We've got to find Sophia…er Sophie. _

_Of course you are right Howl – you always are. But what should we do? _

Howl stoked his chin thoughtfully, while Howell ruffled his hair.

_Well…is there anyone else who could tell us something of Sophie? Someone besides those hat shop clerks?_

_ That's it Howl! Her sister at Cesari's! What was her name? …Lottie? _

_ There's your lead Howell – to Cesari's, and Lottie!_

With that Howl practically pranced to Cesari's, more than usually pleased with himself and his brilliance.

* * *

"Hey gorgeous, look over here!"

"You got plans after?"

"Lettie, I'm in love with you!"

Martha Hatter let out a monstrous sigh, which she skillfully hid with one of Lettie's famous smiles. At the rate things were going, she would never find a husband. These men didn't care about her – they only cared for Lettie's looks, which – thank goodness – where finally starting to shift back to her own. Besides, being apprenticed at Cesari's was surely better than learning spells from Mrs. Fairfax, Martha reminded herself.

Martha tried to shift her mind to more pleasing thoughts. Well, she reflected, there was still _him_. Yes _him, _the only man who had managed to catch Martha's trained eye. The only man who was close to discovering the real Martha, not just Lettie. The only man whom she –

Martha turned to the cashier and handed him some customer's money, letting loose another sigh as she did so. But she hadn't seen him in a few days, not since May Day. Martha told herself feebly that he was busy with his studies, as usual. She began to finger her charm bracelet that he charmed for her, trying to concentrate on her work.

It was then that she noticed _him_. How could she not? What an entrance, strutting into Cesari's casually like he owned the place. He sent a wink in her direction, causing one of her mindless female coworkers to collapse. For a split second, Martha had thought it was _actually _him, her beloved Michael, but then quickly realized her mistake. He was too tall, too dashing, too conventionally handsome, and too old, with startling glass-green eyes that put her ill at ease. This man had a decided air of magic about him, Martha noted (just because she chose to leave Mrs. Fairfax didn't mean she couldn't recognize magic when it was right in front of her nose).

The man walked straight towards her, with eyes for no one else. Martha wondered briefly how he would convince the rowdy, more burly men to step aside from the counter, but with a mere tap on the shoulder from the wizard (Martha had decided he must be one), they walked away demurely.

The man began to speak, and what came out of his mouth was more astonishing than anything Martha had witnessed from him so far.

"You are Lottie, the one I have heard so much of?" he questioned in a smooth, assured voice.

Martha really wasn't in the mood to talk to this man with the strange eyes, but she felt obliged to set him straight.

"No, sir, your source was wrong. I am _Lettie_."

This confused the man. He blinked hurriedly a few times, seemed to settle something in his mind, and started again.

"But you _are_ the sister of Sophie Hatter?" he questioned triumphantly.

Now it was Martha's turn to blink a few times. No one had come in and asked about Sophie before. She wondered if everything was entirely all right, and began to voice her question aloud when the man cut her off.

"Rest assured miss," he said in a deeper voice than usual, causing Martha to fleetingly wonder who he was trying to impress, "your sister is fine." Something about those strange eyes unsettled Martha though, and she found herself wondering if he was telling the whole truth.

"If everything is fine, why would you come in here in the first place?" Aha! She had him there, thought Martha.

The man paused, then gazed up at her from underneath his long eyelashes. "Could you tell me more about your sister, Lettie?"

Startled, but not the least bit charmed, Martha replied hurriedly: "Why would I ever do that?"

And the man replied in a rush: "Because I am too shy to ask her myself."

Martha eyed the man again. He was clearly not telling the truth – or the whole truth at least. How was she expected to believe that this man could ever be shy when it came to women? She was practically being seduced on the job! Still, the man _did _seem to care about Sophie. He at least took an interest in her, which didn't happen often since she insisted on wasting her life away in Martha's step-father's hat-shop. Martha didn't want to mess this up for Sophie. She took a deep breath, resolving to answer the man's questions (with discretion of course).

"What do you want to know about Sophie? I'm surprised you ever chanced to meet her – she spends most of her time in the hat shop."

The man seemed to relax a bit. "We met on May Day," he offered.

This surprised Martha even more – she had been convinced that the only reason Sophie ventured out this past May Day was to visit her at Cesari's. "You are very lucky then, sir, for my sister does not always join in the May Day festivities."

The man seemed to like that idea. "Do you know where I might find Sophie again? I need to speak with her and she wasn't at the hat shop."

"Well my step-father's old house is connected to the shop in the back – perhaps you just missed her," Martha suggested.

"But I spoke with one of the clerks who seemed to think Sophie had gone on an extended trip. Do you know where she might go?" The man had the semblance of someone who was trying to remain calm.

This puzzled Martha considerably. Sophie would never go out and seek her fortune like she and Lettie did; her superstitions about being the eldest would get in the way. "I'm surprised she would leave without telling me, but it is possible she went to visit my sister Martha, who is apprenticed to Mrs. Fairfax, or perhaps she went to visit my mother Fanny."

The man seemed taken aback at that. "You couldn't mean Marella and Frannie, could you?"

"I'm not sure I understand you sir."

The man was starting to take the look of a drowning man. Martha wondered if it had been something she said.

…

…

Either Howl's world was crumbling, or he was – one of the two. He couldn't be sure which; things he had once been certain of seemed so flimsy now. Little chinks had been made in his armor of thought; he found himself questioning truths he had always held dear. One central question raced through his mind: _Did he know Sophia (er…Sophie) as well as he thought? _Howl was beginning to wonder if he knew this "Sophie" at all.

Howl's body couldn't handle the confusion his mind was sending him. He was used to being sure of himself and confident – cocky even. As a result, Howl's shoulders began to quiver and his knees started to shake. He couldn't muster up enough strength to pull himself together; he had to get out of Cesari's _fast_.

He glanced up at Lettie who was eyeing him warily. He forced a grin. "Well, thanks so much for your help Lottie, but I'm afraid I must be off. Adieu!"

With that he turned as gracefully as one can with quivering knees and began to make his way to the doorway.

"It's _Lettie_!" Sophie's sister yelled after him.

"THAT'S WHAT I SAID!" Howl howled back petulantly.

Several people were staring at him by now, though not in the way Howl was used to. It was making him even more nervous. He quickly dashed out the door, slamming it behind him.

…

…

_Well, _Martha thought, _Sophie will have her hands full with that one. _She gave her sister a metaphorical salute, wishing her the best of luck.

…

…

The next thing Howl was aware of he was sitting on a barstool with his cheek against the counter, explaining his situation to a patient bartender.

"I mean, who does she think she is telling me fictitious names? Is that supposed to mean something?"

"I said sir, would you like something else to drink?"

"And what does she think she is doing disappearing on the spot? I'll have to take so much trouble finding her – I'd much rather sit in my castle experimenting with new hair dyes."

"Here you go sir."

Howl was aware of a drink sliding towards him. He grabbed it and sat up straight.

"Cheers," he yelled to no one in particular, "to strong, confident young men!"

Howl downed his drink, and made a valiant effort to focus on happy thoughts the rest of the night, which promised to be a long one.

* * *

**A/N: **Oh that was so much fun! Howl, always the drama queen. I think I will have to make an effort to update once more before I go back to school, what do you think?

Guess who Howl finally (re)encounters next chapter?

Remember, reviews are bliss^^

~YIEQ

**PS** I realized that I had Martha speaking of Fanny and her step father as Martha would, not as Lettie would. To Lettie Fanny would be her step mother and her father would just be her father. Oh well, not even Martha is the perfect actress. It would make even less sense if I tried to edit it. If Howl ever realizes her mistake he will just be more confused haha.


	13. In Which Howl Notices Grandma Sophie

_In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse_

* * *

**A/N: **Hello all! Yes, yes, I know it's been too long. I am sorry I can never deliver on quick updates. Since I can't possibly say anything to make it better, I'll just jump right into the summary, shall I? And don't be frightened by Sophie's POV at the beginning – Howl is the second half.

**Summary of last Chapter: **So Howl had finally realized that maybe something more sinister was afoot and decided to go visit "Lottie" who is really Lettie but as we all know she switched places with Martha (or "Marella"). They chatted about Sophia..er Sophie for a bit until Howl had a breakdown over all the name changes and questioned whether he really knew Sophie at all. So he decided to go get really drunk. Yeah…I know.

**Disclaimer: **As much as I like to pretend that these lovely characters are my puppets, that distinction actually belongs to the esteemed Diana Wynne Jones. Sadly, I am not affiliated with Studio Ghibli either. Any of the lines from movieverse or bookverse that you recognize are not mine, of course.

**Dedication: **For **xMunchy**, who shamed me out of inaction. Also thanks to **DidianaHappy** who shamed me into posting this asap.

_**A quick word on updates**_: I have NOT and will NEVER give up on this fanfiction no matter how long it takes to update. Just fyi. The idea that this will be my first finished chapter fic makes me so happy! Still have many chapters to go, though. I know, I know no one likes to wait, but unfortunately engineers get lots of homework.

ANYWAY, enjoy this longish chapter! ^^

* * *

_Chapter 13_

In Which Howl At Last Notices Grandma Sophie

Sophie awoke from her stool for the second day in a row, feeling distinctly unrested. That was the issue with moving castles, Sophie mused. If they never stopped to rest, how were you supposed to? All that creaking, not to mention that the chair she was in was not the most comfortable thing in the world. Eager to start her day now, since sleep evaded her and it was finally an acceptable time to be awake, Sophie began to move out of her chair.

And instantly regretted it.

"Ow! I ache all over!" Sophie complained loudly. "Sailing into shops and turning people old - what I _won't _do to that horrible woman!"

A cacophony of cracks issued from whichever limb Sophie tried to move. Sighing in frustration and exertion, Sophie all but collapsed back in her chair. So much for being a hardy old woman, she thought darkly.

Sophie was frustrated with herself. It would have been so much easier to just tell Howl her problem! After all, he was probably the only one who could help her, besides Calcifer (assuming the demon had told the truth). But that was the very thing she couldn't do; not after yesterday.

_I must not tell Howl, I must not tell Howl, I must not tell Howl,_ Sophie repeated like a mantra to keep herself calm.

She had given Howl his chance to recognize her yesterday. Yet he had barely glanced her way. So all those stories floating around Market Chipping were true. Sophie grimaced. He _was _a scoundrel. He _did_ eat girls' hearts, in a sense, and then cast them aside. He really _was _Horrible Howl.

It was best to forget his past kindnesses because he had moved on, and she must attempt to do the same. No matter what she had thought or felt on May Day, clearly that was simply her inexperience with men shining through.

Besides, Sophie told herself meekly, things were infinitely better this way. It was inevitable that Howl would realize his mistaken interest in her, so all the better that he had come to his senses so soon. As the eldest of three, there was no hope that Sophie could be less than a bother to all those she cared about. If anything, Sophie could probably be of more use to Howl as an old decrepit woman than as a love interest, anyway.

"All right, buck up you old bones," Sophie scolded herself, "there's work to be done."

Surprisingly this had some effect. Sophie was now able to stand without much trouble at all. Not even a creak in protest.

Huh. Sophie didn't know what to think of this, so she promptly ignored it and began to shuffle over to the hearth to give Calcifer a hearty breakfast of logs.

"You know, we should probably ask Master Howl to give you a proper bed."

Sophie jumped, a little startled, and turned to face Michael, who apparently had been there the entire time.

"I mean you clearly need one more than me – you could borrow my bed until then," Michael offered generously. "Just as long as you promise not to clean anything in my room," he added nervously, thinking of a certain box of love letters from a certain sweetheart situated beneath a certain pile of cloaks under his bed.

Such a nice young lad, Sophie thought. She wondered how he ever became jumbled up in this magical mess of Howl, Calcifer, and the moving castle.

"That's a nice offer, my boy, but I'd rather talk to Howl about my own room before I take yours," Sophie smiled a crooked old smile.

This did not have the effect she had hoped. Michael groaned.

"So you _will_ be staying then?" he demanded.

"Of course, as soon as I talk to Howl about it."

"Well good luck, you'll never be able to pin him down to anything," Michael advised, beginning to slice a loaf of bread, presumably for his breakfast.

Sophie was aghast. She didn't know what disgusted her more – the lack of cleanliness surrounding the table (and was that _mold_ on the bread?), or the fact that a growing boy was eating just a slice of bread for breakfast.

"Wouldn't you rather have some nice eggs and bacon?" Sophie asked, gesturing to the huge basket of eggs.

"Well _yes_," Michael said stiffly, "but Howl isn't here."

So the boy was being _forced_ to eat the scanty breakfast, mused Sophie. Horrible Howl indeed.

"It's all right, I can cook," Sophie said happily, glad to be of use.

"No, you don't understand – "

"I refuse to be exploited!" roared Calcifer, eyeing the pan in Sophie's hand and the basket of eggs around her arm warily.

"Nonsense, Calcifer! You're the one exploiting _us_ by not letting us eat! How would you like it if I took away all your logs, hmm? Or dumped cold water all over you?" Sophie demanded, her outburst giving her a burst of energy. "Now bow down your head, Calcifer."

"Never!" Calcifer flamed menacingly, unafraid of Sophie's empty threats.

"Oh?" Sophie said lowering her voice. "How would you like it if I told Howl about our little bargain, hmm?"

She began to force the pan onto Calcifer, who tried in vain to fight it off. Eventually he caved, finally afraid of Sophie's last threat.

Sophie began to hum happily, cracking eggs into the pan and cooking the sizzling bacon.

"Here's another curse for you," the exploited Calcifer muttered petulantly, "may all your bacon _burn_."

Ignoring his tantrum (she had loads of practice with these from Martha and Lettie, after all), she twisted around to face Michael.

"Bring me that kettle, will you Michael?"

Michael, still stunned by the turn of events, made to do what Sophie asked.

"Calcifer's doing what she said," he whispered, amazed.

Sophie's attention was back on Calcifer.

"Stop pouting, Cal, and hold still. I need to break in these eggs."

Between the sizzling of the bacon, Calcifer's curses, and the sound of Michael rummaging through the mess to find get to the kettle, Sophie nearly missed the sound of the castle door handle turning.

Sophie whipped around, her heart skipping a beat. Slowly, the door began to open, and a blond haired figure stumbled in. Howl was back!

Now Sophie realized she would die of embarrassment if he ever recognized her. Well, at least the Witch had given her a thorough disguise. Thankful for the first time for the Witch's spell, she glanced down, not wanting to make eye contact with Howl.

Then she saw it – she was still wearing the blue May Day dress Howl had given her!

In shear desperation, she muttered furiously: "Turn _green_ – turn _GREEN_ – why don't you!"

All too soon that clear, melodious voice murmured, "Who on earth are you? Where have I seen you before?"

Howl had finally noticed her, but Sophie was not at all pleased.

**…**

**…**

**…**

Howl stumbled through the streets of Market Chipping, trying to make it back to the meadow he knew the castle would be resting in.

Sunlight poured down from the shockingly blue sky, casting a cheerful air about the small town. Howl glared at the sun. The people of Market Chipping, delighted by the sunshine, smiled at all in their path. Howl glared at them too. (It seems unnecessary to say, but several women did find his wrath devastatingly beautiful, and swooned on the spot).

Howell Pendragon was not in a cheery mood.

His head was fuzzy, the sunlight felt like fire on his eyes, and above all he had made no headway in finding that Sophie. (If Howl was in a better mood, he would have surely fist pumped at having finally gotten her name right). It still pained him that Sophie had not trusted him enough to give out any real names. Nevertheless, he kept remembering the wisdom he had gleaned from his bar musings last night: that she would've done it with anyone - she didn't _not _trust him, she was just wary of men in general. Or so he hoped.

Howl trudged glumly through the remaining streets of Market Chipping. He was now nearly at the edge of town, and Howl welcomed the lack of passerby. Just a little bit farther, and he'd be able to fly home, where a hot bath surely awaited him.

A few strides and a couple of glances-over-the-shoulder later, Howl was soaring through the air. He welcomed the wind that played with his bleached hair, reminding him of how fast he was going, making it seem like he had a _purpose_, a _plan_ in mind. Utterly exhausted, he was blind to the rolling hills that marked the start of the beautiful and strange Wastes. Howl merely scanned the meadows, eyes blurring from lack of focus, in search of his ever moving castle.

Finally catching sight of it, Howl sped towards the door. Now that he had reached his destination, he felt more worn than ever. Slowly turning the handle, he stumbled over the threshold to his home.

And came face to face with a scene that shocked him out of his apathy.

The first thing he noticed he wasn't sure if he had imagined or not. It seemed like a figure standing over Calcifer changed from a bright, deep blue (a color that painfully reminded him of Sophie) to a grayish green. But surely that couldn't be right.

Howl's gaze quickly swept over the room, his eyes widening in astonishment. _Someone else_ was cooking on Calcifer. On _Calcifer!_

He regarded the figure cooking with awe – she was an old woman of ninety or so, the one wearing the grayish green dress. Howl supposed Calcifer had let her in; clearly they were friends. Something about this woman was unsettling though – he got the feeling that he had seen her somewhere before (though he rarely associated with the elderly).

"Who on earth are you?" He demanded. "Where have I seen you before?"

The old lady jumped at the sound of his voice, which would have made Howl feel something akin to guilt if he still had his heart.

"I am a total stranger!" The woman's voice cracked.

_Then why are you in my kitchen, my dear? _Howl wondered. _And why do I feel so troubled that I can't place you?_

"Her name is Sophie!" Michael said, handing her the kettle Howl had not seen for many months. "Calcifer let her in last night."

_Sophie_. Howl's eyes widened.

"_Old_ Sophie," the Sophie stressed. "You can call me Grandma Sophie, young man."

Was it merely a coincidence? Sophie used to be a popular name with this older woman's generation. But _still_. Yes, he saw a few facial similarities underneath all the wrinkles – were they really there or did he see them just because he wanted to believe it? And wouldn't _his _Sophie have told him what was going on?

That is, unless she couldn't.

He'd have to study this further; he had a hard time believing that it could be _his_ Sophie though, despite the fantastic coincidence.

"How did she make Calcifer bend down?" Howl asked, still surprised.

"She bullied me!" the fire demon complained.

"Not just anyone can do that," mused Howl, wondering if this _Sophie_ was at least a witch. That _would _explain why Calcifer had caved. The amount of magic coursing off her was incredible, though he couldn't be sure if it was all her own power, or if it was just a powerful spell.

Howl reached the hearth and gently shoved _Grandma_ Sophie aside. A shock of magic coursed through him. Yes, Howl thought, definitely some sort of witch.

"Calcifer doesn't like anyone but me to cook on him," Howl explained, taking the frying pan out of her withered hands. "Pass me two more slices of bacon and six more of those eggs, please. And why don't you tell me why you are here?"

The old woman looked thoughtful as she carefully passed him the eggs, which Howl deftly cracked on the side of the pan, tossing the shells to a ravenous Calcifer, who ate them with loud enthusiasm.

"Why am I here? Well – I'm here to be your new cleaning lady, of course!"

"Who says you are?" Howl said nervously. He didn't want this witch lady ruining the perfect disorder of his castle. He knew exactly where _not_ to find things!

"_I _do," she replied piously. "And Calcifer – he hates the mess."

That's a lie, Howl thought. Fire demon's love chaos.

Then she added, "I can clean the dirt from this place even if I can't clean you from your wickedness, young man."

Howl welcomed the pain that accompanied this remark; he deserved it.

"Howl's not wicked!" Michael protested, ever loyal to his teacher.

"You forget just how wicked I'm being at the moment, Michael." Though how was Michael supposed to know about his failure to find Sophie? However, Michael _should _have realized by now that Howl had far too much power for one without a heart; a feature, Howl noted, that was wicked enough in itself.

Conversation was soon forgotten as soon as the cooking was finished. Howl and Michael ate ravenously, having not eaten a proper breakfast for too long a time.

Throughout the meal, Old Sophie kept bombarding Howl with questions. Was it alright if she stayed here? Where in the world was the rest of the castle? (He laughed heartily at this one.) How did the portal work? What did he mean by having this great, ugly castle rushing about and frightening everybody in Market Chipping to death? (He made a mental note that she seemed to be from Market Chipping.)

Howl groaned. All he wanted was peace. A nice, quiet meal with friends. Why couldn't she respect that? However, Howl did realize the lady would not be quiet until he made _some _sort of response.

"What an outspoken old woman you are! I've reached that stage in my career when I need to impress everyone with my power and wickedness. I can't have the King thinking well of me. And last year I offended someone very powerful and I need to keep out of their way." Howl trailed off, thinking of the formidable Witch of the Waste.

"Speaking of the King –" Michael began.

"What's in your pocket, Sophie?" Howl asked pleasantly, cutting Michael off. He had realized something, and he'd rather avoid hearing anything to do with the King. Sometimes he was almost as bad as the Witch of the Waste.

Sophie reached tentatively into her dress, pulling out of small square piece of paper, and offered it questioningly to Howl. He reached for the paper, but as he touched it, it flamed and fell on the table, dissolving and leaving a glowing crimson seal.

"What is it Master Howl?" Michael asked, excited, knowing magic was afoot.

"That is ancient sorcery indeed." The Witch of the Waste, clearly. _How was Old Sophie mixed up with that fiend of a woman?_ Howl wondered. "'You who swallowed a falling star, oh heartless man, your heart shall soon be mine,'" Howl read. _Blast!_ – the Witch of the Waste had seen through all his pretenses. "That can't be good for the table," he added lightly, wiping the mark off with his bare hand. He singed his hand in the process, but it was better than having that reminder of the Witch embedded in his kitchen table.

A brusque pounding on the door startled them all.

"Kingsbury door!" Calcifer shouted.

Howl strode over to the door and opened it, the red blob facing down. One of the flamboyantly dressed King's messengers was there. Howl briefly studied the gold, purple, and scarlet royal garments with a frown. Only Howl himself could pull off that look, he decided.

"His Majesty the King presents his compliments and sends his payment for two thousand pair of seven-league boots," the messenger said, handing Howl the money.

He took it eagerly, thinking of new sparkling suits he would buy – maybe ones similar to the royal garments, to prove his point – and made to close the door.

"One more thing, Mr. Pendragon! A letter of summons from the King," the man said, shoving the letter into the reluctant Howl's hands. "He says it is your duty to continue the search for his brother in Wizard Suliman's place. Good day to you." The man turned and walked to the vehicle waiting for him.

His trudged back towards the table, a feeling of heaviness encompassing him.

"I tried to warn you, before, Howl," Michael began.

_His duty._

"Forgive me, friends," Howl said, "continue your breakfast."

With several long strides, he was halfway up the stairs, the king's letter in his hand. The others continued eating, only to be interrupted when Howl's head poked down from the stairs.

"Oh and Calcifer, make some hot water for my bath." He scurried up the stairs, away from Calcifer's angry mutterings.

Once upstairs, Howl stripped and practically jumped in the bathtub. He sunk in, welcoming the blissfully hot water. As planned, the letter in his hand was completely soaked and unreadable now. Too bad, Howl smirked.

Who was the King to tell him what his _duty _was, anyway? No one could tell Howell Pendragon what to do! Sure, he was worried about the King's brother disappearing on the Wastes, and Wizard Suliman right after him – that sort of thing just screamed Witch of the Waste. Clearly the woman was planning something, but _that _was exactly why Howl should stay out of it. He was sure he factored into her sick plans somehow – he had to avoid her like never before. The notion of getting caught was horrifying, so joining the search was impossible.

**…**

Dear readers, you must remember that Howl is an extraordinary coward, who is aware of his cowardice and welcomes it with pride. He felt no duty tying him to the King, or even his friend Wizard Suliman. Regret, maybe; duty, no. So it is rather surprising that the only _duty _he could fathom was not, in fact, to himself, but to the elusive Sophie Hatter. A deep sense of responsibility coursed through him, an ever present reminder that he must find and help her at all costs. After all, it was his fault she was somehow mixed up in this mess. And if helping Sophie somehow required complying with the King's requests, so be it. _That_ was his duty.

You may also be questioning Howl's stress of "responsibility" and "duty". Didn't Howl, after all, show us he was capable of much deeper feelings on May Day? Perhaps yes, but Howl is not the one to ask; a person without a heart can never be sure what is truly in it.

However, if you pay attention, you will hear Calcifer grumbling about his experiencing a startling amount of heart palpitations of late.

**…**

Howl, blissfully unaware of his feelings, stayed in the bath a long, long time, experimenting with an exciting new hair dye until late at night; Sophie was nearly convinced that the fool had finally managed to drown in his bath products.

* * *

**A/N: **So…thoughts please? I'm always concerned about long chapters losing steam at parts. So if you had any comments, suggestions, or just want to say hi or announce your love to Howl or yell at me for waiting nearly 8 months to update, please leave a review ^^ (actually I lied about the yelling part…kinda) Oh! Do tell me what you thought of that narration at the end; I needed to say those things, but I'm not sure I managed to do it in a non-awkward way. Ah wells.

Reviewers get a hearty egg/bacon feast cooked by none other than Howl himself xD And Calcifer will sing the Saucepan song just for you!


	14. In Which Howl Ventures Out

_In Which Howl Meets a Little Gray Mouse_

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**Summary of previous chapter: **We watched our characters reenact a hashed out version of the much loved bacon/egg scene from the book/movie. Howl finally got his head out of the drunken clouds and noticed the old woman terrorizing his friends, and was…confused. But he quickly let it slide, resolving to try harder to find his Sophie.

**Disclaimer: Nope.**

* * *

_Chapter 14_

In Which Howl Ventures Out

_"I'm surprised she would leave without telling me, but it is possible she went to visit my sister Martha, who is apprenticed to Mrs. Fairfax, or perhaps she went to visit my mother Fanny."_

_The man seemed taken aback at that. "You couldn't mean Marella and Frannie, could you?"_

* * *

Howl's bedroom was a curious place. Perhaps over-cluttered and slightly gaudy, it could not be lumped together with the adjective that so aptly described the rest of the moving castle – _messy_. No, Howl seemed to take particular care of this room. The walls were draped with colorful scrolls, glittering jewels, and odd trinkets that hinted at another world. One such object was a small, glossy, startlingly lifelike portrait of a little girl laughing heartily, who had very similar eyes to Howl, if not quite so glass-like. A speck of dust could not be found anywhere; even the cobwebs covering the ceiling looked pristine and artful. Rich colored tapestries – depicting magical events of historical significance such as when the great Wizard Norland drove out corrupt warlocks from the Royal City (using a special potion that had taken years to develop, one of the failed attempts having led to one of Howl's favorite hair products) – covered any would-be bare spots of the walls, making it impossible to deduce their original color.

The overall effect was ethereal, yet cozy.

The man sound asleep in the center of the room only added to this effect. His chest rose and fell – slowly, peacefully – with each breath. Blonde hair cascading over his pillow evoked a golden halo framing his face.

Such serenity cannot last forever.

Ten o'clock approaches – a ray of light dances by the window, slowly sauntering forward into the depths of Howl's room. It edges forward to its intended target: the bed. Rays split off from the parent ray, colliding with jeweled walls, showering the room with their blinding brilliance. The relentless sunbeam next greets Howl's delicate eyelids. Said eyelids flutter and shoot open, only to be met with the full force of the golden laserbeam, accented by silver sparkles from the glistening jewels.

"God, why do I _do_ this to myself?" Howl bemoaned, though he knew perfectly well why. Without a proper wake up call, Howl tended to sleep through the entire day. It stretched on for four weeks once, before Calcifer grew so irritable and lonely – this was before Michael came – that he forced Howl to adopt this new system. Howl suspected the fire demon still took glee in the arrangements they had agreed upon. Howl couldn't remember for the life of him why he shook to waking to the feeling of his eyes burning out of their sockets every morning, but then again, a month of sleep did tend to make one rather groggy.

Howl sat up deliberately, determined not to fall back in the sleepy abyss. He shuffled out of bed, and began his usually morning ritual of heading straight to the bathroom, where he would undoubtedly remain for a few hours.

He grinned happily as he did so. Today was an important day.

He had remembered something.

…

…

…

Michael knew he deserved a medal.

Or a plaque detailing: the First and (probably) Last Apprentice to Wizard Pendragon. At the very least: The One who makes sure Howl doesn't waste all The Money. Michael sighed, hard. It seemed to help so he did it again.

Their relationship went through cycles. More often than not, Howl couldn't be bothered to teach him anything. Between traipsing after ladies, pretending to play the guitar, purchasing god knows what with their money, and running away from the same ladies, Howl's schedule was booked. No time for the lowly apprentice.

Michael had ceased to mind.

Much.

After all, he could still learn from Calcifer and the plentiful magick tomes that swallowed up the kitchen table. No Howl watching him also meant more sneaking away to Cesari's unnoticed. The only thing Michael truly hated was the necessity of hiding the money. But in a house filled with a fire demon and a vain twenty-something year old who still took baths, someone had to be the adult.

Some days, despite the joys of being left to his own devices, he got fed up. So Michael deliberately shifted the cycle. Howl had signed up to teach him – bother it all – and teach him he would. Michael would force Howl to be the adult, by acting the pestering child himself. The only thing Howl hates more than questions is answering them – as Michael was well aware. _Did you remember to buy milk, Howl? What happened to all the silverware, Howl? Cook some food, Howl. How many new suits this week, Howl? Why that horrible guitar, Howl? Shouldn't we charge our clients more, Howl? _Howl, Howl, Howl. Before long the finicky wizard would give him a new spell just to shut him up.

However, for a comfortable two weeks or so Howl and Michael had been operating in the third stage of the cycle. Overly enthusiastic, Howl had taken to assigning Michael ten new spells to master a day. Though Michael enjoyed the extra attention and lessons, Howl was a hard wizard to keep up with. Everything came absurdly easy to him, and his slapdash method of crafting spells was frankly alarming. (Howl was constantly reminding Michael not to copy him in this regard, and Michael didn't dare, but it still made him feel a bit slow.) Still, Howl was a thorough teacher when he wanted to be.

Today, Michael was particularly swamped. He was behind in his spells, several of which he had doubts were possible (Howl did that sometimes, but insisted he be creative and invent a suitable substitute), and the castle door had been pounding non-stop. Most of his morning had been spent fumbling around the castle's main room, hastily making spells for customers, dodging a certain batty cleaning lady, and ignoring Calcifer's smirks.

Howl, of course, had yet to come down. Michael tried to quell his annoyance at his teacher-castle-mate-sometimes-friend, but he felt uneasy. He could feel the cycle moving along.

It never stayed in one place for long.

…

…

…

"What do you say to raising the stakes?" crackled Calcifer.

Michael, currently juggling three spell orders and rushing to fill two others, all the while dodging Sophie's aggressive mop, could only manage a quirk of the eyebrow, both annoyed and curious, in response.

Sophie, not quite understanding what was transpiring, cackled anyway. Though hesitant to admit it, she was enjoying herself in this sorry excuse for a castle. The bursts of cleaning were giving her energy. She liked poking her nose about in search of secrets. Made bold in her old age, Sophie no longer gave a bother to what anyone thought of her. Embarrassment had fled with the realization that if anyone questioned her, she could just claim wisdom beyond their years. Being old wasn't so bad.

The bell rang and Michael hastened to open the door – Porthaven, blue knob – maddeningly delaying a proper response to Calcifer's curious comment. Sophie huffed and vigorously doused her mop with sudsy water. A house full of riddles, Sophie mused, with no one who bothered to tell her anything.

Michael was busying himself with matching the proper order with the proper customer and collecting payment. Shutting the door while muttering to himself (snippets from "not enough – the fool – poor business sense" were all Sophie caught), he then shuffled over to the dirty kettle – Howl would never dare snooping here – and plopped the money inside.

He then became aware of the two pairs of eyes studying him, waiting.

"What?" Michael demanded, defensive. "You know how he is with money."

"Such a fuss," Sophie voiced, surveying the floor for spots missed.

"Howl _is_ an idiot," Calcifer stated, "let's move on. Stakes, Michael?"

Michael sat down at the desk, shuffling scrolls, thinking. Moments later he spun around on his stool and faced Calcifer seriously.

"A week's cover to Cesari's."

A beat. "No moving more than 5 leagues, for the same time."

Completely enthralled, albeit confused, Sophie halted the cleaning charade. Rather, she stood in the center of the chamber, mop useless in her limp hands, head swiveling between the two, taking in their hard expressions.

On cue, the two halted their staring match and voiced aloud: "deal." They couldn't shake on it, for obvious reasons, but Sophie thought it all looked very convincing.

Before Sophie could school her expression into something less snooping and more cleaning-lady, Howl was bounding down the staircase. An unstoppable force of bright silks, crisp suits, and hyacinth fumes, he dashed into the chamber with little regard for its current occupants. Pausing only to pick up his gilded guitar and to grace Sophie and her mop with a withering glare, he was out of the castle before anyone could ask where he was going.

Not that he would have answered.

The slamming of the door – pink blob, Kingsbury – had Calcifer cackling and spitting flames intermittently. Michael, in turn, groaned and slammed his forehead to the desk.

Sophie had had enough.

"If it's not too much of a _bother_, can either of you _please_ explain to me what's going on?"

"Week's worth of vacation!" Calcifer cheered, sparks flying in celebration.

"I don't know why I agreed to that," Michael moaned, "Howl is never going to let the castle stay in one region for so long, especially with the Witch getting closer."

"Your problem, not mine."

"Yes, yes," Sophie huffed, "that's all well and good, but what was the actual bet? Something to do with Howl?" Sophie trailed off thinking how the matter seemed to be settled by Howl's frantic exit.

"No more questions!" Calcifer retreated under his logs, his eyes peeping out from under them. "I'm on vacation."

Sophie turned to Michael, old eyes beseeching. A bet on Howl, that ridiculous man? She longed to know the punch-line.

"Well," Michael began, looking very much like a boy preparing to be told off. "You've heard the stories, surely. Howl broke a heart a few weeks back – this is a pretty long stretch for him, but I thought he would last a few more days before searching again. Calcifer didn't."

Sophie wondered vaguely if she looked the same as she felt – surely it was obvious she'd just absorbed a blow to her gut – but Michael wasn't paying attention.

"Wait a minute," he muttered, thinking fast. "Calcifer!"

"Hmm?" flames poked out from beneath the log.

"You _knew _it would be today! He was in the bath for 3 hours?"

"Finally got there, eh?" Calcifer inched out about the logs. "Not cheating, mind you. I make all the hot water, might as well use it to my advantage."

This time, Sophie groaned along with Michael.

"What's wrong with _you_?" Calcifer wondered.

Sophie kicked her bucket of water over in response.

This cleaning business might be more trouble than it was worth.

…

…

…

To say Howl was nervous about leaving his friends in the throes of Sophie – ahem, _old_ Sophie – would be an understatement. He was restless, he was jittery. Golden hair stood on edge.

Hang Michael and Calcifer, they could fend for themselves, what would become of his poor spiders?

The path to his final destination was straightforward. Or it should have been, had he not been deterred in the Royal City. By some odd coincidence (_though there _were _no coincidences where magic was involved_, Howl reminded himself darkly), upon exiting the moving castle he had collided with another of the King's infernal messengers. Or what had appeared to be a messenger. Turns out he was, in fact, an escort, sent to personally drag him to the King's doorstep.

Howl had fidgeted as his escort drove the opulent automobile to the Royal Palace. Several emotions had fought for dominance, none fairing all too well: annoyance, coupled with a dash of confusion, sprinkled with resignation.

Annoyance at himself – the Kingsbury door had been a mistake. Obviously. He hadn't had the patience to be delayed, yet had gone to the place he would surely be recognized. Careless. (Howl had no problem being recognized for the looker he was, but when people knew he was a wizard, there was undoubtedly _work_ to be done.)

Confusion – he hadn't _wanted _to see the King – or maybe he had? Subconsciously he _may _have meant to return the Royal Summons. Howl knew very well the only way he could convince himself to do something boring, tedious, dangerous, or some mutant of the three, was to lie to himself that he wasn't doing anything of the sort. His mind has mastered this lying business frightfully well.

Finally: resignation. The sooner this finished, the sooner he could set off again. _Get on with it_, he thought furiously.

A mere hour later (a record for the Royal Palace, and an indicator of the urgency of the matter related), Howl was marching towards the city limits. Once there, he could zip off to that bee woman's house (he was assured the bees would take a liking to him this time). A wizard was just as good as a pair of seven league boots, better even, when the wizard in question was Howl.

He had stepped forward – _zip!_ _zip!_ – blurring through the countryside with ferocious wind at his back. His right hand had clamped shut, crunching the envelope within which bore the Royal Seal. This business with the King troubled him more than he cared to admit to himself. Strange as it was, both duties – to the King's missing brother and Chief Wizard, and to the missing Sophie – led him to the same doorstep. And where magic reigned, there were _no_ coincidences.

Here the unease had taken hold, chasing lucid thought from his mind, save the worry for his spider friends. Howl now found himself meandering on a stoop, grasping for resolve like straws.

Steeling himself, he knocked on the worn door in front of him.

Feet on stairs, rustles inside, the chinking of metal locks.

The door sprang open, and was replaced by a pretty young face. Howl shivered, she even _looked_ like her.

The girl hollered over her shoulder, "Mrs. Fairfax! You have company!"

Howl stepped into the threshold – guitar and all – forcing the girl back. "You must be the charming Martha." He graced her hand with his soft lips. "But it is your company alone that I seek." A winning smile.

The charming Lettie, as it was, easily managed a pitying smile, in turn.

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**A/N:** Hello to all and happy summer! Old readers, glad you've stuck with me ^^ New readers, welcome aboard. Now I don't want to make any promises on updates (we've been down that murky path before), but I _will _note that I am actually home for the entirety of the summer, so…I think you can make a deduction.

Point out any grammatical/spelling errors I missed, and I'll fix them.

It's good to be back!

**If convenient, please review. If inconvenient, review anyway. **

**~YIEQ**


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